Call me silly but I find something spiritual about chinese soup.
It’s soulful food.
My bowl is a treasure trove of colorful beauty and texture. It feels ‘real’ to me and it’s warmth somehow soothes my soul this evening.
I’ve been thinking lately about changing the way I eat. In the sense that I would like to cut out things that aren’t natural.
They say that if your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize it as food, don’t eat it.
I have also tried to go organic as much as possible. I delight in the way organic food looks. No shellac coating to make it shiny, or chemicals to mar the health value. Instead, lovely pure color and texture that elicits thoughts of the earth.
I believe that if we started eating for the soul (i.e. organic, fresh, humanely slaughtered, less refined), there would be less illness in the world. And, happier people.
When my food arrived a bit ago I was hungry and ready to eat. But, instead of consuming without thought I took the time to savor each delicious spoonful. I let my taste buds thrill in each bite. I allowed my senses to take over. It wasn’t just sustenance, it was love.
And, isn’t this the way it was meant to be?