Love Finding its Way--Tonight's Blessing

Tonight at dinner a blessing was said. I was at the home of a dear friend, accepting a spontaneous invitation, despite my need to stay home and clean and organize my own house, and also rest. I often say that given the option, I will always socialize. Even when I am grateful and reveling in free time, I will leap at a social invitation if one pops up.

I sort of justified accepting the invitation, reassuring myself in my own mind as I texted my hostess, "I won't stay late, and I won't eat much." Somehow, that made it ok to abandon the contents of my dining room buffet that were now all on my dining room table. I also left the remnants of fudge-making all over my kitchen.

Cooking is one way that I show love. It nurtures body and spirit, both mine, and those who eat what I prepare. I had quickly thrown together some fudge this afternoon, to give to a young friend who is facing some big challenges right now. Fudge is really nothing, but it was a way for me to express my care. I was also thinking of her the whole time I was cooking. When I went to deliver the fudge, she was not able to visit with me. I left the treats, hoping that she will know that she is loved, even though I didn't get to see her.

Back to the blessing. The patriarch of the assembled family at dinner tonight--I really was crashing the party--said grace before we ate. The words that stuck with me were about love. Love finds its way into our lives in so many ways if we allow it. I knew that I was loved, surrounded by this family that was not my own, but we were part of each other for the evening.

Interestingly enough, the dinner conversation turned to religion, and the since I teach, and others present had studied world religions, it was a great conversation. Among the points discussed, different faiths have different practices, but the same goals. Every major faith has a statement of some form of the Golden Rule--Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And it is all about love. Isn't that an important goal in all of our lives? To be loved and valued. So, as we strive to be loved, we should love others.

Loving what you do is a way of sharing your passion with others. When you have a passion, and you choose to share that passion, you can impact others--with your enthusiasm, your work, your love. Passion is very attractive. Loving my family, home, career, city, activities, friends--makes me realize how lucky I am. Yes, love has found its way in, and I welcome it, celebrate it, revel in it.

So tonight, as I am sitting upstairs listening to the rain, having cleaned up (and consumed) the remnants of the fudge, following an amazing dinner of shrimp ettouffe and bread pudding, I am happy to have let love find its way in to my life today.

Travel Vignette--The Gesture of Shared Food

Saturday I was doing my usual Saturday morning thing, attending Monica Pope's Green Plum Cooking School and the Midtown Farmer's Market. I am there almost every week. I have a community there--a family built around food. Monica shares her knowledge, her food, and her experience with the community each week through these free Saturday morning classes, as well as in many other ways. This weekend was unusual, though, as I was not in my usual role of Google Girl, doing on the spot research during the class. There was a guest chef, Caleb Barber, who talked about the sharing of food with travelers. I was instantly transported back to one of the most lovely food sharing experiences I've had.

Bhutan, Friday, March 30, 2007
Festivals, such as the one we attended, are celebrated monthly on the 10th of the month according to the Lunar Calendar. People dress in their finest clothes, and come see the Buddhist monks dance and play music. It is a celebration of the Monk who unified the Kingdom of Bhutan

We arrive just in time to hear the giant gongs and horns (which sound a little like bagpipes warming up) and see the beginning of the procession down the steps of the Paro Dzong into the festival area. A series of brightly costumed people proceeded to the performance space in an ordered parade. I wandered around admiring the explosion of color in the costumes of the performers, and in the dress of the people attending. I watched the dancers.

I sat under a tree to write in my journal, and attracted a curious but shy crowd. People here were marveling at the novelty of this white American tourist sitting and writing, just as I marveled at the beauty of the people and the festival. The explosion of fantastic color, beautiful clothing, and smiling faces is something I will never forget. At one point, an airplane took off from the airport, and it was completely anachronistic--a very bizarre event in the setting in which I was immersed.

The sounds are different here. There is no noise pollution. Every sound I hear is distinct. The wind--both a close breeze in the trees, and the wind whipping through the valley below. I hear voices of men talking in the distance, and also the sounds of the music coming up from the festival to the clearing where I now sit. In the distance I can see the worlds tallest peaks, covered in spots by traces of snow.

A family sits down nearby, and begins to unpack their picnic lunch. They were talking and laughing as the women worked to set up the simple meal. The bowls were passed, and a woman came up to me and handed me a bowl. I must have looked puzzled, because she gestured that she wished me to join them. I dined on a lentil stew and the local red rice with my new friends. We communicated little with words, but with some gestures, and a lot of smiles. It was not so much the generosity of the Bhutanese people that struck me, but their happiness. I think that happiness and generosity are connected. Gratitude also. I was grateful for the gesture of sharing what these people had to give. A simple lunch. A few smiles. A lifetime memory.

So, this weekend, as Caleb talked about the gesture of sharing food with travelers, and I remembered this family in Bhutan, I also thought about how food offers an instant connection for people. It connects us with our family, our friends, places, and traditions. The gesture of sharing food and nurturing spirit and body, is one of the most generous gestures I've experienced.