I have been in a cook’s block for a while now.
Culinary constipation, I call it (and it alliterates).
That sounds gross, I know, but I just can’t find the energy to cook anymore. Instead, I find myself sneaking in cheap sushi for lunch and eating leftovers for dinner more times in the week than I can count on one hand. And if I feel pangs about going broke, I make it to the store long enough to pick up hummus and turkey slices for a wrap.
This isn’t good, because I believe that nutrition is a really important part of life. We have one body and one soul, and eating the right foods nourishes both. It helps the mind too, to stay sharp and active. And with the stresses of the job these days, now is the time to eat well.
In fact, thinking about food now, I would say that it’ a really important part of life, close to kindness, awareness and religion. And yes, I’m not religious, but by the latter I mean beliefs that guide your life, whether it’s your closeness to God or your morals.
Lately, it amazes me how the body is like a well-oiled machine. Feed it the proper things, it sends messages to the mind about weight loss and metabolism, all on its own. And the mind works together with the body to process what you put in and give you energy or store what you don’t need for later.
It’s kind of cool, and I feel like we — the me that you know and the you that you know better — is only a fraction of what we really are. We are just the facade. My voice you hear and the movements you see me make, even the words you’re reading now, aren’t my doing. Not just my doing, I mean. Science and art are both helping my body, soul and mind here. And that’s also why it turns out that no school subject was ever any less important than the other, after all. Each catered to a specific part of you, working to cultivate it, so that you can become more whole — ugh: even math and science.
I ate fish and brown rice with flaxseeds tonight, corn, green beans in tomato sauce, an organic carrot and some tangerines. I felt so alive and full of energy afterward. I worked out too in the morning and ate a good breakfast, then read for most of the day. I also danced in my room a bit and caught up with some friends. At night, my roommate’s date picked us up, and we went to see a play. It wasn’t the best play, and the guy was kind of blah, and when we came back, I wished we were out doing something else — dancing, having a glass of wine.
But I’m glad we didn’t go. It’s been a really nice, slow day, and that too, like food, is essential. It feeds another part of you, the part that dreads Mondays, struggles to run from life’s daily stresses, dreams of other paths, diverts your attention to that other choice you could have made instead, and when the day is over, turns inward for solace before you let your eyelids fall.
It’s not regretful, this part of you, just filled with wonder. And nothing nourishes wonder more than solitude.