Make the Food You Want to Eat in the World

Though I wasn’t gone very long, coming home is always a nice process. You are reminded how much comfort is contained within, how you have purposeful space to honor all of your needs. Then you (ok, I) realize, “I have a kitchen! I can actually make food.” So you make the kind of food that you missed, whatever it may be. Because making food is one of the ways you care for yourself, you do so with pride. And you make the tofu how it should always be and is often not, packed with flavor and browned.

Now home, you slowly regain control of the factors you put aside at the altar of the road, for the return of its pace, its immediate consequences, its visceral-ity (I made that word up.) Still being within that magic but being home is like holding on to a dream that slowly begins to dissipate. You don’t let it go easily. You make travel plans for Spring break while the mango curry bubbles away on the stovetop. Eustressed (Reverse gerund) by possibilities. You feed your inspiration… while you finally get to feed yourself again.

You savor. Because that’s what you had been doing every minute of the days before; it became a habit. Don’t let it go.

And when you begin to shift elsewhere, find ways to stay.

This helps me.