Recently, I have found myself thinking about food. Big surprise, right? I haven’t been really thinking about any food in particular though, haven’t been salivating over some new recipe or idea that begs to be tried out. I’ve just been thinking about food as a whole, about how it fits into a normal life. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how it is such an intrinsically social thing.
All my life, food has been so closely linked with family and friends, with festive gatherings and coffee dates. It has been a thing to be enjoyed and lingered over in good company. Cooking and sharing food long ago became a part of how I connect to people, how I share love and support.
So just the other day, when my little sister sent me a recipe that she told me I needed to try, it was a bit jolting to see myself writing back, “Most nights I’m working, so I hardly ever cook anymore.” All of a sudden I realized how far food has devolved in my life as of late. Working evening shifts and not having someone at home with whom to share mealtimes (my roommate is usually in her pajamas by the time I get home) means most of my meals are hurried, a bit of a helter-skelter operation.
I have been eating just to eat rather than to enjoy and experience.
How terribly depressing that sounds! I mean, many meals do end up being mostly about stuffing in the nourishment our bodies need so we can continue on with our days, but to have ALL meals turn into this unconscious, busy feeding?
Surely there must be a remedy for this, a way to get fellowship and community back into my mealtimes, a way to bring back the spice of true enjoyment. I suppose that means I must be mindful, purposeful, seeking to share, experience, and truly connect where I can in the midst of this busy life....
Fellowship and food, man, that’s where it’s at.