Soup & Shit

The Red Lentil soup I like to make is chocked full of flavor and warmth - garlic, shallot, ginger, carrot and curry. It takes a lot of preparation, time chopping and care. I don’t make handmade meals that often. Watching cooking shows makes me nervous and don’t enjoy laboring in the kitchen unlike others, who claim it is meditative and calming. This particular soup is worth the effort so I doubled the recipe with the intention of sharing it with those I care about. When you love another you willingly sacrifice and give of yourself on their behalf. So I peeled that crazy, twisted landscape of fragrant ginger with the edge of a spoon and got lost in thought as the weightless, white wings of garlic skin whispered on the countertop. Each step was slow and sacred and I did not rush. I rinsed the lentils tenderly in cool water, the ingredients simmered softly on the stove and I imagined the smiles the soup would create. 

The last step of making the soup is to put half of it in the blender to make the consistency just right. A well-meaning friend dropped in at that moment and offered to pour the soup into the blender for me. I accepted, even though I didn’t need the help - I had done it many times before in my own careful, concise way with a ladle. The pot heavy, their hands slipping, in one split second - the entire batch of soup spilled into the sink and down the drain. I was in disbelief, taking in the horrific, splattered scene. My face hot and sweating, I could have raged or sobbed. I took a big breath and stilled myself. What was this? 

I labored with love and had expectations for what I created. I had to accept it was gone now. I could not take it back. Regretting my decision to accept help would not change it. Getting emotional would not change the fact it was gone. What I did have, though was a perfect metaphor to always remember a major lesson to use going forward.

TRUST MYSELF. 

Many times in my life I assumed that because others seemed so confident, that they had better solutions or ideas than me. I have gone along with it and believed them. Putting their values and beliefs higher than my own; my own voice hidden and small for so long. Now, I am learning that the answers are within in me and they are the most valuable of all. I have the solutions for my self. I believe my instincts and they suit me best. 

Interestingly, another incident made its impact on me not by taking away, but by flooding over. 

I live in a home with old plumbing and three toilets. You’re welcome to stop reading here if you’re squeamish. 

The toilet I habitually use is unpredictable. I’m on eggshells whenever I flush, not knowing if it will drain completely down. Some days, the contents would rise up to the rim, dangerously threatening to spill over. Despite my efforts at figuring out if it’s my length of pressure on handle or not, the toilet proceeded to elude me and it’s behavior, uncertain. I flushed several times a day in fear - each time. I continued to do so in habit. On a day that I was especially praying the toilet would fulfill its job in whisking away its contents, the toilet did the opposite. As the toxic waters rose closer and closer to the edge, I chanted desperately, “go down, go down, go down.” But I was the one who was down - down on my hands and knees cleaning up the toxic mess all over the flooded bathroom floor in a hurry before work. I had to leave it. I was afraid to do anything else and it took three days for the toilet to finally return back to clear water. What was this? 

I was mindlessly repeating a pattern that was causing me stress. Habitually going to the same source with expectations it would work out, holding my breath nervously. It wasn’t until that final blowup that I finally saw my actions and the situation clearly. I had enough. I had a choice all along that I didn’t realize. I could move on from something that wasn’t working for me, I didn’t need to use that toilet that let me down. 

YOU HAVE CHOICES.

Ultimately, in heeding both lessons - I am now taking responsibility for my own life and listening to my instincts. I’ll be in charge of my own soup. I’ll be trusting those who can handle my shit. 


Beauty is Everywhere. 


- Holly