A Magical Mixture

I made oatmeal yesterday. I poured the raw oats into a pan and covered them with water. I put the pan over a burner and turned it to medium. As the oats began to cook, I added raisins, chopped pecans, brown sugar and flax seed. In a few short moments, I was enjoying the aroma of these ingredients as I took care of a few household tasks while the oatmeal cooked. When the food was ready, I dished i into a clean, white breakfast bowl and sat down for a good meal. A dear friend of mine has reintroduced the idea of praying before meals, of more accurately, giving thanks for our food. Along with that gratitude is a specific blessing for the healthy intention we desire from the food. This practice has brought to mind the sacred connection between food and the soul, something we all unconsciously know and understand on a daily basis, but it is good sometimes to pause and think on these things consciously.

Thomas Moore talks about the difference between Soul and Spirit. Soul, to paraphrase Moore, is earthy, imperfect, moody, demanding, secretive and meaty, to use a food word. Spirit, on the other hand, is light, inspirational, heavenly, motivating, freeing, forward-looking...it is our dessert. One of the most obvious words that comes to mind in regards to both food and soul is "nourishment." Food nourishes our body; countless things nourish our soul, including good food.

The art of food preparation is an activity that can nourish our soul. It is also a good metaphor for the soul itself. As we take raw or uncooked ingredients from the earth and we wash and chop and dice and mix and boil and bake and knead and work these elements, it is like the subconscious, imperfect, sometimes experimental process our sould goes through in its search for meaning. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that." "Not quite right, let me try this." Our soul needs room for experimentation as well. Why am I drawn to this person, place or thing and not another? Why do I like this taste? Why does this one taste bitter and the other sweet? What secret mystery in my soul requires mixing, kneading, baking to resonate for me with pure authenticity?

And when the preparation is done and the aroma wafts through the kitchen and we pull the meal out of the oven or off the stovetop, that is when our spirit is engaged; we anticipate the tasting, we savor the moment, we converse and laugh with friends with open hearts. Indeed, our spirit is like a finished meal, the ingredients all complimenting one another, our goodness a tangible substance to be enjoyed and consumed by those who love us.

Even when our bodies are aching or ill, food supplies alchemical powers of healing that is something more than just the ingredients and the prepared dish, something more than soul and spirit. It becomes transcendent: a manifestation of the very love of the person who created or gifted the food.

As we commune and consume together, let us respect the earthy needs of the Soul and honor the heavenly flight of Spirit, as we, gathered around the table, the individual ingredients to a divine sustenance, complement our differences to form a magical mixture.