It may have started out about the food, granted. Actually, what got me all revved was the Cuisinart, which handily julienned my zucchini and carrots for the zucchini slaw I’m making for tomorrow’s dinner. I love the Cuisinart!
After putting together the slaw and making the dressing, which will stay separated from each other until their wedding day, tomorrow, I got to work marinading the fish for the fish tacos.This involved zesting and juicing a lime. Yum, yum! My partner, getting into the spirit, even asked for a little lime zest on her vanilla ice cream.
It wasn’t until clean up time, washing the lime scent off of my hands, that I began to get it that I am living a miracle. An abundant, colorful, zesty miracle. And I am blessed. I am blessed with enough, first of all. But beyond that, I am blessed with the ability to enjoy things time and time again, as if for the first time, no matter how used to them I am. I’ve always been like that. The simplest things delight me. Trying out a new recipe, using an appliance. I still think tying my shoes is a fete of magic, because, for whatever reason, I still remember back before I could do it, and I remember the process of learning it, and I remember my grandmother, Angelina, being the first one to crack the lefty code and getting me to be able to do it for myself.
I’m grateful for the ability to be grateful. Because of the Thirty Days of Joy practice I have embarked on, I think I have begun to notice some of the stuff that makes life 4-D. Because, what makes my fond memory of making the marinade isn’t only the sharp aroma and the satisfaction of doing it, and the way the lime blended with the smashed garlic cloves, and the sheen of the oil on the fish, but the pleasure pure and simple of having my partner standing there with me, eating ice cream out of a carton, and saying, “Hit me!” and holding it out for a dribble of zest.
The fourth dimension in Joyland is connection with another person. I had company. My company joined in the creative spirit of the moment. It could even be said to now be a story, an event with a beginning, a middle, and an end, something we can repeat, something that will become part of our shared history. Whatever you might think of stories, good, bad, desirable, to be obliterated, they are pretty much what make up our reality as humans.
So, I guess you could say I’m choosing to make a warm story for myself about how my partner stood by and kept me company and helped me figure out how to get the zest off the grater, and asked for some on her ice cream, then went to take a shower. “Honey, remember the night you had lime zest on your vanilla ice cream?”
So, no, it’s not about the food. It’s about the people. It’s about our cousins, who are coming for dinner tomorrow night. And it’s about me, and how I tried out fish tacos and zucchini slaw for the first time, for company, like I always do, because it’s company that motivates me to come up with something special. It’s about our friend Karen who’s coming over, too; and it’s about how the people who’ve never met before will interact and blend (or not!) It’s about my partner, who hung out while I cooked. It’s about the people who brought me my lime and my haddock, whom I haven’t met, and the people who brought me the vegetables, whom I have met.
Even this blog, which is about me, is also about you. In one way or another, this is about my connecting with you by connecting with myself and my life at a deeper level. And I can’t tell you why, but right now that idea doesn’t scare me, make me feel pressured, self-conscious, or weird in any way. It just is, and I don’t know any more about it than what I’ve already said.
So, onward to Day 5’s discoveries, and have a zesty day!