Saturday, March 15, 2014

mental mohair meanderings #1

The mind makes connections. For me mind is a holistic reference ~ I don't feel it's trapped in the brain, in our heads. The mind is a full-body experience. In shamatha meditation, sitting, abiding, it is practice to include the mind, bring it along for the ride. A thought or two may breeze by and then (as learned from Susan Piver) I remind myself, Thinking, gently returning to that still point of meditating.

It is interesting for me to follow how my mind makes connections. The connections lead to creative promptings ~ some easily initiated, some requiring time and sometimes other connections. This is the beginning of a random series of these mental meanderings or How I Got From Pickles to the Beach.

So. Yesterday, I'm making myself a Leftover Chicken Sandwich. Very simple: a couple of slices of a favorite bread toasted (gotta be toasted), leftover chicken breast, mayonnaise and other assorted favorite condiments. I love cold leftover meat. It's already cooked and requires little preparation beyond refrigeration. My personal fast food.

An assembled leftover chicken sandwich sat before me needing . . . something else. Then I remembered Bread and Butter pickles purchased from the Farmers' Market last weekend and that memory sparked a chain of memories. I remembered a summer when my mother took me and my Little Family out to Sherwood Island for the day. She packed us all lunch. While child-friendly sandwiches where included, the more interesting adult fare included Bread and Butter pickles. Thin-sliced turkey with cheese, mayo and pickles on pumpernickel. That memory lead to the comment she made about how sandwiches used to be wrapped in her day, with wax paper and how it's so much better than sandwich baggies. (In daily homage to that comment, Bennie's PB&J's are wrapped in wax paper then packed into a sandwich box. She can't stand the insipid school lunches and I can't stand paying good money for them.) The memory further unfolds as my feet feel the sand and my head feels the hat on my head, trying to keep the sun exposure in check. We are on the beach with colored buckets collecting any number of shells and rocks. We are now making little memento aquariums with empty water bottles, sea weed and sticks and rocks and shells and sand ~ in this way, we can take a bit of Sherwood Island home with us.

With these memories in tow, a lunch of Leftover Chicken Sandwich became a moment of divine sublime. Each bite a gift.

Now. How to make art of it all? Or is the sandwich art enough?

Last summer's Day At the Beach under the Traveling Tropical Oasis.

1 comment:

Ashling said...

What fabulous meanderings. I think your words were the art.

As an aside, butter used to be kept in beeswax dipped cotton cloth.