Homemade Potlatch Soup

Homemade Potlatch Soup

The Daily Om (click on the icon above) is a warm and welcome website that I visit on a regular basis for a reminder that the spiritual component is 1/3 of the mind/body/spirit ideal. And perhaps if there was an objective rating system (of fair and impartial judgment) to prioritize the three, I am quite sure that it would have some disclaimer alluding to the ebb and flow of each. There needs to be a balance for all three to thrive, grow and evolve.

"Like right now my poor body is struggling with the most basic of functions, breathing. Meanwhile, I sense this longing for a spiritual connection perhaps to push the idea that while my body will eventually wear out and I will have to find another place to live, the "I" in question is my soul, my spirit, my consciousness, and hence the need for the comfort in the presence of the One," he ventured, "I don't need my body for that, and all the thinking and philosophy in the world won't help me with a question that has no answer."

His meditation on spirit drifted to the potlatch article and it's beautiful message so he again brought his attention back to the present moment. Inhale deep and slow, suppress the cough, relax, exhale. I feel lighter, is that as a response to the meditation or from that fact that over a week he lad lost five pounds, his mind asked. Calm the mind. Ease the body. Nurture the spirit. Whoahhh, what is that smell? Ah, the homemade vegetable soup and it's delightful doughy dumplings are wafting a scent upstairs that elicit an immediate Pavlovian response. Detach. Breathe. Let it go. The nourishment of the body can wait. And you can read more about the Sartrean Weltanschauung later. But right now the Spirit has center stage. Count your breaths like each will be the last. Focus your resolve and intent. See yourself without a nose. You smell nothing. The olfactory void. There is no smell therefore there is no temptation. I wonder if there is hot french bread alongside, the mind asks, seeing an opening and not liking to play second fiddle, and soup might strengthen our lungs and fuel the recovery, quips the body, suddenly in a supporting role. Once more he brought it back to just sitting and breathing, tempted, tested, tried.

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Potlatch, yes, I will give away all my money. There, it is settled. Let's eat.