Thursday April 17, 2014

QUESTION OF THE WEEK

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The Nourished Soul Part 1

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Nourishment from real food is underrated.

Over the years, I’ve tested the limits my being could endure and often underestimated the importance of sleep and nutrition. That being said, people can’t live well on food alone.

Life happens and during inevitable pummeling events, some are driven to smoke, drink, or indulge in other drugs. Addictions are no wonder, but being healthy means much more than the absence of unhealthy vices. Health requires nourishment.

I’m told Christmas is the loneliest time of year. In part, this is due to the contrast between commercially conditioned expectations, and reality 10 minutes into Christmas morning, when the children are playing with cardboard boxes, and ignoring the expensive toys that filled your credit card. Yuletide disappointments also abound because stuff and the money that bought it will never buy what we need most.

Two months into my slow read of Caroline Myss’ book called "Defy Gravity," I am discovering the grace of understanding. Although she is a spiritual teacher, Myss pledges no allegiance to any religion, but in a series of anecdotes hammers out a concept that has been as illusive to me as flight.

Fortunately, I recently experienced understanding.

Farmer and I will usually have at least one good squabble before Christmas. I want a small renovation (this time bathroom flooring), and he wants me to leave him alone. I’m pissed off because he stands in my way. He’s mad that I even asked. Squabble season generally ends with me either going ahead without his blessing or pouting.

Recently I had the opportunity to drive uphill on black ice in a school bus, or at least try. Flight must feel like this to the fledgling. I regained control somehow (angels?), then parked safely at the road’s edge. Soon afterward a tanker truck came down that hill a bit sideways.

I was rattled for days, physically drained and nauseas. When the kids were in bed I sat beside Farmer on the couch and held his hands. For decades he’s often driven in worse conditions, gripping a cold steering wheel and skating along in a half ton. Blizzard or thick fog, it’s his job to keep driving.

My trauma felt like that same exhausted look Farmer wears most winter evenings. But what’s nourishing in all this is the grace of understanding. Discovering this grace means that suddenly squabble season is officially over.

 


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