Savoring Goodness – Day Thirty-Seven

Savor God's goodness

One time when I was about four or five, it must have been Thanksgiving, I was sitting with my brother and two other children at the kids table in the back room. It was a communal meal so all the families contributed and somebody brought a dish of boiled peas and carrots. Peas were at the very top of my Can’t Stand list of foods, and I could only tolerate raw carrots, not cooked. But to refuse it would be impolite and my father insisted. Being the good little girl I was, I complied and took a bite. And promptly regurgitated the mess back onto my plate. I still can’t stand peas.

Science shows that children possess taste superpowers – their tongues are especially sensitive to bitter flavors, and react accordingly. Previously accepted data held there is a veritable map for various taste sensors (one part detects sweet, another tastes bitter, etc.). Now it is understood that they all work together to inform the brain of the flavors at work. And as we age taste buds stop regenerating making us less sensitive to nuances in the flavor. This makes it easier to stomach foods that tend to be healthier and promote longevity – and are more bitter.

At the same time, less sensitivity tempts us to ignore the potion of herbs and spices that infuse the mango that roasts with garlic on that lovely piece of salmon. Or allow the hints of mint and basal linger on the tongue before washing it down with a sip of wine. In this way it also creates the conditions for overconsumption since I can rush through the meal more quickly than my stomach can tell my brain it is full. Too I did not take the moments required to find enjoyment in the way an interesting combination of ingredients make a chicken breast taste—a practice that improves a sense of well-being and staves off a common reason for eating more than is healthy to begin with.

Along with my connective tissue disease, I am also allergic to wheat, dairy and coconut. My diet is much different from when I was a kid, and sometimes it is easiest to limit what I eat to what I know is healthy and will not trigger an asthma attack, while also providing enough calories. Sometimes I will eat something that I find no enjoyment in purely because I need to eat something substantial and do not have the energy to explore other options. But since Greer has come home we’ve had many conversations about how controlled we are by food, instead of appreciating it in healthy ways—and that it is a luxury that many in the world cannot conceive.

There is something mystical and alluring about Psalm 34:8, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” This idea that the sense of taste can bring insight—vision—to understanding the goodness of God, is evocative. The images of the banquet table and narratives around a meal and creating the best wine for the wedding party, these are scattered liberally throughout scripture. It can run both ways: when I notice and savor the goodness of God I can almost taste the nearness of God’s Spirit, ingest the aromas and flavors of heaven; and, when I allow a bite from the meal prepared by my sons – or an expert chef – to linger, notice the delicious concoction and appreciate the company around my table, heaven is at hand.

This weekend I will celebrate my birthday with my husband, and my brother and his wife around a meal and drinks. It is always a beautiful time with them to linger over skillfully prepared creations and freely chat and laugh and be. And as 50 is fast approaching I am hyper aware of the necessity for being intentional about savoring each moment. Will you practice with me today, the very spiritual mindfulness practice of relishing each food and drink consumed?

Inhale the aroma wafting up to nose.

Is it hot or cold, somewhere in between?

Do my taste buds wake up and tingle inside my mouth?

Exhale and receive the bite.

Inhale as I allow the piece to mix on the tongue, the senses register nuance.

Is the flavor strong? Can I distinguish the ingredients?

What memories do these flavors conjure for me?

Exhale and remain a few moments with those thoughts.

Be grateful for God’s goodness. See, the Lord is good.

See and be Known – Day Thirty-Four

see and be known

When I was growing up, our family lived in four different houses, but they were basically in the same school district. So, for me, I went to one elementary school, one junior high, and one high school. Then I went to university in the same state, but began a (thus far) thirty year succession of moves—out of country, different states, more education, different jobs . . . . One thing I learned quickly was that each new place harbored new bugs, and the first year is one of accepting new illnesses while my body’s immune system learned how to fight them.

When I finally discovered some of my physical pain was due to autoimmune disease, I began a life-long journey of finding a balance to supporting my immune system. Autoimmune disease is basically an internal overreaction. Certain sectors of the immune system no longer focus on disease but attack healthy cells. So, many “normal” modes of targeting a virus can trigger a heightened attack on my joints and nerves. It requires listening to my body, noticing how it responds to certain supplements and foods, exercises and activities. It is a mindfulness practice that, for me, holds some urgency.

It seems as if we do a similar psychic thing to ourselves. That is, maybe I am overreacting to an internal judgment about my inadequacy and undermine – attack – the healthy strengths I do possess, rendering myself socially or professionally infirm. Also, perhaps we do this as a society by passing judgment without thought, without real insight, and attack the whole of another’s position. In doing so, we debilitate constructive civil conversation.

Recently, I have been reading some of the musings of the German-Jewish philosopher, Hannah Arendt. She writes about that intersection of thinking and action—that both are necessary for making things right in the world. An expert on Arendt, Lyndsey Stonebridge, observes, “Thinking, [Arendt] says, is not the same as judgment, but it creates the right conditions for judgment. But also, she says, if you can’t have that inner dialogue, then you can’t speak and act with others. What she called ‘the banality of evil’ was the inability to hear another voice, the inability to have a dialogue either with oneself or the world, the moral world.”

It is this sense that is so important for our time as it was in Arendt’s, found in a concept she coined and elaborates on: “organized loneliness.” It is this experience of living in a society in which individuals are unseen and disconnected, of feeling superfluous in the world. It is certainly something that I wrestle with as I draw closer to turning 50. And it seems to be an overarching universal experience in our globalizing world—more connected and more isolated. But just as I cannot really see a truth about my capabilities until another person observes it, sees me as I am, so as a society we cannot see our system for what it is until we can understand it from another cultural perspective.

Of course, that is a very oversimplified observation. Still, though I feel like I cannot really change a political system, I can be a part of changing culture. One way is to actively open my eyes to see another person, another culture, another belief system. And when my eyes are open, they remain open for another to return that gaze. It is vulnerable. It is frightening. It is thrilling. How beautiful it is when two people extend trust and really look at one another. I am changed, and just maybe, together we can change our culture, and the world.

How do I need to change my perspectival lens so I can really see someone today?