The joy of food and drink

Food – it is so easy to relate to what we eat in terms of necessity, habit and craving, to forget to savour the experience, the flavours, the textures, the provenance, the effort, the artistry.

Whilst it would seem to me excessive to eat expensively too often, after enjoying a wonderful local food tasting menu (with matched wines) at the Globe Bistro last night I came away very much aware that, in focussing on our experience of food and wine, giving it real attention, there is an opportunity to hone a more general awareness and appreciation.

We speak of the culinary art. Art at its best has always held an ability to shift my perception, to change the way I experience the world. Tasting menus, if they are any good, do just this.

They offer a reminder to be fully present when we eat in such a way that genuinely ‘feeds’ our sense of joy!

Joy, suffering and the ego

I read today a view that the ego will always attempt to suck us back into a state of suffering. Without resistance, we begin to blur our sense of separateness and the ego needs us to see ourselves in terms of separation and difference.

From the egoic point of view, it’s vital that we remain in conflict to some extent, and that’s why, when we look at the world around us, we see so much conflict among human beings.  (Adyashanti: Falling into Grace)

This prompted for me that the realization that joy, at least as I perceive it, is rarely if ever ego driven, existing most profoundly in the moments when the barrier of ego-separation is breached by a sense of connectedness, of grace.

So for me, part of the purpose in consciously working to develop the capacity to access joy is to provide myself with one of the tools with which to combat the pull of the ego and the resultant ‘suffering’, the fall from grace into being a part of conflict.

 

A story of snow . . .

Words and storytelling give us tools to amplify wonder and joy in the everyday.

I walk across the park on my way to work through falling snow. Momentarily, I lower my eyelids and open my inner eyes. I am surrounded by myriad crystals, each unlike any other, that in moments will cease to be.

Later, amid the forced exodus of a fire alarm, I am blessed by a single, perfect flower-crystal that rests on my coat’s puffy black sleeve. I wonder, without that amplified perception that I chose to tap into earlier, would I have overlooked this gift?

Snow flakes by Wilson Bentley

Once again, I seem to have used a combination of knowledge and internal storytelling to fuel my sense of joy.

Can knowledge amplify joy?

Walking in snow-like-sand, entranced by each grain’s iridescent glitter.  Does the knowledge of the unseen, the microscopic beauty of the crystal structures, increase my sense of wonder, of joy?

I have always perceived joy as being fed by wisdom rather than knowledge, yet I can see the possibility that humankind’s amazing curiosity and creativity open up ways of knowing, of seeing or otherwise experiencing that amplify perception even when that mode of perception is not available.

Or is this merely an intellectualization?

Compassionate parenting

A friend asked me whether, in the context of his adult children, I thought that compassionate ‘being with’ was contradicted by acting to make things better or right for them.

I think it is important to understand what is behind any such action.

I remember as a young mother becoming aware of how often a caregiver will gather a distressed child to them and say ‘don’t cry’. It seemed to me that at some levels this ministered more to their own distress than the child’s. I tried, therefore, to cultivate an ability to transmit a message more along the lines ‘ I am here with you,  I acknowledge your pain; if you need to deal with that pain by crying, I will provide the safe space in which you can do so’.

I wonder whether an important element of compassion is the ability to put aside our own response (pain or fear) so as to allow space for that of the other?

Therefore, if an action is driven by the need to alleviate our own distress, it is not truly fuelled by compassion.

As our children get older, their explorations take them further from us, the risks they take and the pains they experience become more complex. As parents, we increasingly have to learn how to let them go, to allow and enable them manage their own lives and experiences and to learn from these.

Therefore, when we see them in pain or difficulty, whilst our impulse may be to wade in an ‘make it right’, this has to be balanced against their need to develop confidence in their own resilience and capability.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is simply to let them know ‘I am here, I witness your pain or difficulty, I am confident that you can deal with this yourself, but will support you if you need me.’ It is important that our actions, however well intentioned, do not simply reinforce a pattern of neediness and dependency.

I truly believe that the greatest joy for a parent is to see their child fly strong and free!