Having a “gratitude” mindset, a “gratitude” practice, or an “attitude of gratitude” can sound and feel a little weird. For myself at least, I like the idea of mindfulness a bit more just because being mindful inevitably involves being grateful- for everything, every moment, every unique second of your life- without leaning into overly humble-sounding BS.
Maybe it’s a bit of a linguistic trick, but follow me on this- it’s hard to take things for granted when you realize they won’t last forever.
This happens at least once in every kitchen.
A new cook is told to chop leafy herbs, and they are given a cutting board and told to hone their knife. A bunch or two in, the new cook inevitably looks up at the Robo-coup (a.k.a. “Robocop” or “Robo”, a brand name for a heavy-duty professional food processor. Our version of a Cuisinart.)
“This is friggin’ stupid. It would be way faster and more efficient to use the Robo-coup.”
An older cook looks up from their own prep and shakes their head. “Nope, it’s gotta be like this. The food processor doesn’t do it right.”
To the new cook, this sounds like “peeling potatoes builds character” hazing bullshit. As soon as the chef isn’t looking, the new cook has taken down the heavy cube of a machine, affixed the bowl and blade, and is shoving bunches of parsley in while the older cook rolls his eyes, watches, and waits.
The machine IS powerful, and noisy. Chunks of green juice and herb splatter against the clear lid like alien guts while the very-pleased-with-themselves cook watches and uses his “expert opinion” to decide how long is enough. Soon, he tips out the bowl into a container and is about to load another couple of bunches in when the chef’s voice rings out. “The hell do you think you are doing?!”
Young Iron Chef freezes, they don’t understand. The parsley is getting chopped, right? They’re doing their job. They’re doing it faster than everyone else, right? That’s the point, isn’t it? Why are they in trouble? “Chopping the parsley like you said, Chef!”
The walk up Mount Tabor has become a familiar old friend, and like an old friend it has its own moods. Normally, when I go walking through the park, it’s with an audiobook in my ears. The walk is for the fresh air and exercise, the book for entertainment and distraction- especially if I’m in a foul mood and need to clear my mind.
That was the case this afternoon as I decided I needed to get out of the house and write this blog, but not go to a bar or cafe. Money has been tight lately, so I need to find other spaces to be creative in. The weather is perfect if a bit chilly, and the park is free. Walking up to the top of a little hill near the summit, I have an Earthsea book in my ears. The breeze was blowing, kindly cooling me under the heat of the sun.
In my meditation lately, I’ve been trying to build on focus and mindfulness- being in each moment and appreciating where I am and what I’m doing. As I walked, I pulled the headphones from my ears.
A deep breath. A quiet moment between heartbeats. The smell of warm cedar, and someone practicing a bamboo flute nearby. Distant traffic. Bird song.
I kick aside a few fir cones, lay down my blanket, and start to feel everything.
The Black Hat Baker 