My Beef with Cooking

The impediment to action advances action.

What stands in the way becomes the way. 

— Marcus Aurelius

In my subconscious, I have been afraid of food making me its slave. My "Food Fare" posts show I love a good meal, but I have been loathe to cook it myself. I've only cooked on Sundays in batches; I couldn't stomach the idea of having to cook more than once a week! Sometimes I would skip the chore altogether in favor of easy-quick meals like protein shakes and mac 'n cheese, but these weren't filling. I never made enough, and was often hungry at work and downright starving by the time I arrived home again.

My grandmother was a slave to food; every single day she had to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the household. On holidays, she made every dish by herself. Her spine became bent from hunching over a blackened stove all her life. If she wasn't cooking for the house, she was cooking for the public schools as a lunch lady for extra money. There was no concept of "her own time." In the poisonous patriarchal system of the house, this was considered her "just role as a woman." This thought disgusts me! I became hostile to the entire idea of cooking, even when I needed to take care of my own body.

This week, I had a breakthrough. I was weary of feeling hungry when I hadn't made enough, and I felt annoyed for making Buck worry about me. I explained my fears, and he reminded me that he enjoys cooking for me; in the future, we would both have a role in the kitchen. We don't have to be 50/50 in all categories of life, but on the whole we are equal partners. I do not and will not have the entire load fall on my shoulders. I do have to sacrifice (willingly) some time to cooking and cleaning, but not all of my time and life and hopes and dreams. It's not going to swallow me up.

I became sick for New Years, and after three days my mind rose out of the fever-dreams as clear and fresh as new-come spring. I didn't know how to explain the change in me... it was like all that dark-gray-slush of winter had been flushed out. I felt like something had changed and it was exciting.

I choose to serve (my health, my body, my loved ones) with love instead of be a slave of fear.

I've been cooking up new recipes everyday since. Here is what I've made so far (you can click on the name for the original Paleo recipe):

Cabbage Soup

Flourless Banana Pancakes

Sausage & Egg Breakfast Casserole

The wound is the place where the Light enters you. — Rumi

When you get down to it, eating food is a sacred act. Life must eat life to live. A meal is a gift of the whole universe — the sun, the rain, the earth, the toil of the farmer or the animal, the efforts of the food preparation & distribution system, the grocer, and last of all your cooking. Then, when we really take our time to enjoy our meal as we eat, we can give thanks we have the wholesome and nutritious fuel to live another day and do good works.

I want to keep this in mind when I am cooking from now on. 🔆

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