Politicians are an interesting breed. Pick a country, and they’re likely to fit a general mold, at least in one sense — they often move from position to position, laterally or climbing the ladder, making connections and using the relationships they build in order to strengthen ties and ensure a bigger paycheck. Sounds pretty smart, at least on the surface; but when it comes to how this plays out in the food industry it’s downright unappetizing.
A recent review of an article from one of my favorite blogs (arguably my favorite) made me realize something I’d never quite put my finger on before: A lot of my decisions in life — heck, a lot of my thoughts — come from a place of fear. Are based on the premise of fear. Are constructed and formulated, to a large extent, on any number of fears:
It’s Saturday, today we have one of my son’s little buddy’s birthday parties, Sunday is Easter and a big family dinner also means leftovers. (Not to mention I’m pregnant, emotional, hormonal, and exhausted.)
I can’t even start writing this post without sighing in shame and discouragement.
Ah, how times have changed.
Are you a museum-goer? Do you appreciate the finer things in life, like old oil paintings, black and white photography, American history? I’ve never been too big of an art buff, but one thing is clear and often cited when looking back over the life works of portrait artists from around the globe:
I have to be honest, I did not deliberate much (this morning) when deciding that this year would be my Year of Peace. As you may remember from previous posts, each year I pick a theme on my birthday for the following 12 months. In the past its been such things as the Year of Me, when I focused on taking care of my body, the Year of Opposites when I tried to come out of my shell more and think outside of the box, the Year of Health when I was pregnant and trying to eat well for the baby. The Year of Peace seemed rather obvious, not just in light of this site but generally speaking in terms of my real need for calm and peace in the home, with my child, in heated or hectic moments and trying to stay relaxed, focused, and centered concerning all elements of my life — spirituality, nutrition, friendships, finance, whatever it may be.
Although I’m behind on my reading (and all things unnecessary to the daily functioning of my life), every once in a while I get to read a page or two of Why Weight, another Geneen Roth book based on workshop-type exercises rather than some of her other books that are filled with personal stories and anecdotes from readers.
We all want more, more, more these days, but that’s not always a bad thing — one of the things I want, for example, is more energy. More energy to do more things, to stay up later and not be tired the next day, to not get drowsy, worn down, tired and sick.
This past Tuesday I had another interesting talk with one of my mentors, a very wise older woman who often helps me see the light when it comes to, well, how I see things versus how they are. We somehow got around to discussing food and diet, which happens often, and I tried to explain how I often feel that I’m lacking focus on this blog and in life in general, I don’t know what my “culinary point of view” is and that just makes me think that I don’t know what I’m doing, what I want, what my message is, et cetera.
Sitting at lunch the other day, drooling over a picture of jerk chicken a familiar thought came floating through my mind: