Stirring the Pot
It’s been an interesting couple of weeks since I finished my mindful eating exploration. I’m more conscious of the foods I’m consuming now (and where they’re coming from)—I’ve even eliminated a few from my diet altogether (like white rice and red meat). And, I’m not sure if this is a direct correlation to my having just cleansed my body or not—but I’m feeling more focussed and aligned with my purpose than I think I ever have….
In the past week, I’ve managed to give away more than 3,200 free The Mindfulness Diaries: How I Survived My First Nine-Day Silent Meditation Retreat ebooks; the ebook made Amazon’s top 100 free ebooks list and landed #1 on both the free Memoir and the free Meditation ebooks list; I found out that two major internet publications will be publishing my writing about mindfulness (one actually just ran here); and I’ve started facilitating.
I’ve been contemplating everything that’s been happening lately—and as much as my ego would love to believe “I” was the “one” who MADE all these things happen, there’s a deeper part of me that knows it wasn’t about me somehow willing these results into existence. A constellation of circumstances, people, and occurrences contributed to all the positive outcomes mentioned above. And sure, I can take credit for bringing the elements together, but each element played its own significant part in the process—and the outcomes were never in my control.
In keeping within the recent food-related themes I’ve been writing about lately, it feels like I’m in the midst of “cooking” something new in my life—the circumstances, people and occurrences I mentioned above, acting like ingredients in a new recipe of sorts.
And contemplating this, it occurs to me that a cook doesn’t actually make the food she cooks. She collects all the elements needed to make a dish—the pots/pans, the individual ingredients, the stove, the utensils, the seasoning; she places them together in an orchestrated and (at least somewhat) deliberate dance—and then she steps back to let the magic happen. The chemical reactions that occur during the process of cooking actually create the dish. They’re a direct result of the cook’s actions to set them up. But the cook doesn’t actually make the chemical reactions happen by willing them to react.
When I cook a new dish, I tend to read a bunch of different recipes and then put the cookbooks away—borrowing what speaks to me from each separate recipe, maybe adding a few of my own touches into the mix—and then stepping aside and letting the magic happen. As long as I’m mindful about the process, adjusting the heat and adding a dash of this or a pinch of that as needed—I usually end up with something satisfying. And what’s happening in my life right now feels like a similar process.
One of the beautiful things about mindfulness, beyond helping me become more focussed, is that it’s helping me build an overall appreciation for (and feeling of satisfaction from) the process of life—and my place within that process. So, right now, I’m just doing my best to only add the ingredients that I’m clear I want in my life, to keep a watchful eye on everything—and then to step aside and let the magic happen.
And so far, it’s looking like the recipe I’m in the midst of concocting is going to churn out a satisfying meal (or at least a tasty side dish). But, even if it doesn’t—that’s ok, too. My life feels like a grand experiment these days. And I’m finally accepting that not everything I “cook” is going to be Michelin star worthy. Sometimes it might even end up being a recipe for disaster…But I’m cool with that—because there’s always something to be learned along the way (especially from the disasters).
I’m not exactly sure how this new “dish” of mine is going to turn out just yet. But I can tell you this much—something smells good….