I'm sorry, I know I have been ungrateful, frightfully so. All that time inside my head, driven there by the cold and the weather and general disconnect between my body and my mind and them to the universe at large.
It makes me distracted, distracted I am a walking ball of distractedness. Crow-mind amongst the glittery things that draw my attention, I let them draw my attention in a desperate bid to draw attention away from myself. Because I'm tired of thinking about myself. Look, a bird!
I said to me "I'll allot you five minutes to find some grace, and don't come back empty handed!" ending in a yell. A quiet yell, but a yell nonetheless.
I took to the kitchen as I often do, because cooking good things to eat gives me focus and a way to slip out the back door and let go for a bit, focus, focus. You know, like the Zen monks do when they chop wood, carry water.
Grace. Grace? Where in the world was I going to find grace? I haven't had grace in the house since...well, it feels like just shy of forever. Remain calm, no freaking out, just breathe, cut, stir, simmer, taste. That's all I needed to do. While leaning against the counter, in a lull between stirring and adding the next set of ingredients to the pot, I found grace.
It consisted of a stalk of celery, slathered with some peanut butter. Just like my G-maw used to make for me when I was a kid, at her house for dinner. It was simply good.
I hadn't thought of that particular taste treat in years, don't know what made me think of it then. All I know is, standing there in the pearly north light coming through my kitchen windows, I felt warm and content, and I was thinking that, somewhere in this universe, someone wanted me to be happy.
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grace dwells in you
ReplyDeleteyou write so well about the precarious state of our being. the words are heartbreakingly beautiful. Here's another g-maw taste treat: cinnamon and sugar toast.
ReplyDeleteWe move, one foot in front of the other, yes, like chopping wood and carrying water! Therein, my dear friend, lies the grace. You have it, it will have you, and the dance continues.
I feel for all my snow-bound friends this very cold winter. Maybe it's time for a Teddy Bear's picnic in the living room!
Oh, I'm lost for words except to say.... that was lovely. I'm gonna read it again. :)
ReplyDeleteHi IG - I may have kidnapped you over the weekend, along with your celery. Hope you don't mind... :D
ReplyDeleteAh, a comfort food from grama! An easy hug out of the past. Mine was hot chocolate & cinnamon toast.
ReplyDeletejust a note, I was here.
ReplyDeleteThat was a beautiful little piece of writing. Keep warm.
ReplyDeleteFunny how we gravitate to the foods of our childhoods.
ReplyDeleteI made four pounds worth of meatballs Sunday afternoon and am now thinking about making a yellow pound cake with that loemon drizzle icing...
Frankly, I think most of teh world could use a sincere hug.
Here's yours: OOOOO.
:-)
Pearl
Enjoyed that. Grace is with you, Irish, even when you don't recognize it.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of family comfort foods, I've been in the mood to make one of my father's famous pots of navy beans and the ubiquitous goulash (not together), accompanied by plain bread and lotsa butter. That, and drunk bananas.
Oh look, a bird!
I am a big fan of grace, whatever and however it comes.
ReplyDeleteSir, you may not feel it...but you are one of the most grace-filled people I know.
ReplyDelete