Scorched Paella and the Pandemic

I have the privilege of staying safe at home during this pandemic. Comfortable, well-fed and loved, I’m basking in the simplicity of making meals for my daughters. I can’t complain.

As a nerdy introvert lost in my own thoughts, my social scene has not altered much except for lunches with my trusted tiny circle of friends.

But.

I do miss being alone with others.

You know….that moment when you feel a part of a stream of humanity, no titles, roles, names, just human. I’ve felt this connection when noticing shoes on the subway, tired heads nodding on a train commute home, standing impatiently at the checkout counter, sitting at a coffee shop glowing with lit laptop screens, waiting with anxious others at doctors offices and airports. I miss humanity.

This social isolation has taught me the value of those accidental encounters of sharing space.

I find myself saying thank-you louder when grocer loads my car and deliberately saying “hi” to people across the street when on walks.

Last night’s experimental recipe was paella in an attempt to conjure the excitement and warmth of Barcelona in my Indiana kitchen.

I scorched it.

It was cooking beautifully. The onion, garlic, parsley, tomato mixture coating the rice kernels. I added the chicken and shrimp too early. The rice wasn’t cooked yet. In order to make up for the mistake, I decided to put a lid on it. Not a good idea. I couldn’t smell the burning that was happening on the bottom.

Yikes! Thankfully, I was able to lift most of rice out of the burnt layer. No roastie-toastie rice layer for me this time. Still good, still better than edible, but less than what it could have been with patience.

The point is: I rushed.

As much as I want to spend a day at a coffee shop quietly working and writing with others, rushing it will burn my paella, my people, what I’m trying to bloom and nurture. This impulse to rush threatens so much.

As we feel the impulse to rush towards each other, are we simply rushing out of discomfort?

We are only limited, finite humans plagued with blurry farsight and muted insight. Asking the big questions of food insecurity, climate change, health care, education, political representation is too overwhelming. Opening up businesses feels like a quick solution. Will opening up businesses and exposing people to the virus kill more people, or will social starvation from isolation kill more people? Death by interaction or isolation? If we have a choice, how many of us are we willing to sacrifice in the name of a return to “normalcy.”

I don’t know.

We are all uncomfortable with the physical isolation and worried. The collapse of the economy or the collapse of humanity, are these the same?

If this were a therapy session, I would say, “Let’s sit with this for a moment.”

With the paella, I made a mistake by rushing to return the meats to the pan. I needed to accept that, instead of trying to rush the rice too. I scorched a half of my pan, saved another half. I can’t afford to scorch half of humanity, just because I miss humanity.

I know I’m rambling. Nothing makes sense. Thank you for listening.

Sending you loving thoughts out there. Missing you,

Hungryphil

Here is the link to the paella recipe, modify as needed, just don’t rush 🙂

https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/tyler-florence/the-ultimate-paella-recipe-2117628

Inside/Out Self-awareness

If self-awareness is a journey, insights are the “aha” moments along the way. They’re the fuel powering the souped-up sports car on the highway of self-awareness: with them, we can step on the gas pedal; without them, we’re stranded on the side of the road.

Eurich, Tasha. Insight . Crown. Kindle Edition.

According to Tasha Eurich, we learn from “alarm clock” events, situations that challenge us with new roles, rules, losses, trauma, as well as small mundane insights. These, “aha” moments or “alarm clock” events are life opportunities to learn balancing inside and outside self-awareness.

Doesn’t sound pleasant at all! Who likes alarm clocks??

Covid-19 is certainly an alarm clock event, a window of time that confuses our perspective on ourselves. We infect each other, not only with viruses but with joy and sadness too.

What does this alarm clock wake me up to? That I am connected to my neighbors more intimately than I ever imagined, I am vulnerable yet capable, isolated yet not alone, that I decide who I am every moment, with every decision to go for a walk, wear a mask or not, cook at home, order out, buy meat, read a book or binge watch cooking shows. This is partly why I am exhausted. Self-awareness, constant balanced decision making is tiresome. Awareness of the framed window of existence that I am is exhausting. This alarm clock event interrupts false comforts of regularity and certainty. I don’t know the “new” pattern. None of us know.

Because I don’t know, I have to look outside myself. Reach out to you, for example, reading this right now, passing by my virtual window, even though you don’t know. Solidarity in loss.

If we were are all windows. How easy it would be to just close the shutters! How horrible it would be to miss out on the view, sunshine, moonlight, noise, breeze, reflection, and connection?

I know this self-awareness/social-awareness is a luxury.

I don’t know what I’m learning right now, sitting here social distancing on a beautiful sunny Sunday, but somehow I feel that I’m learning something important. I imagine you are too.

May learn we about ourselves together as the alarm clock buzzes,

Hungryphil

Life as a career

Life itself is your career, and your interaction with life is your most meaningful relationship. Everything else you’re doing is just focusing on a tiny subset of life in the attempt to give life some meaning. What actually gives life meaning is the willingness to live it. It isn’t any particular event; it’s the willingness to experience life’s events.

Singer, Michael A.. The Untethered Soul (p. 161). New Harbinger Publications. Kindle Edition.

Covid-19 has turned so many things upside down. The upside down, blurry vision sometimes offers glimpses of hidden perspectives. Like: since we can work from home, why were we “going” to work anyway? Why do 9-5 jobs exist? What is the relationship between time and purpose? Who do we shelter with, and potentially infect and are infected by? What are essential services? What is home when a social boundary as well as a retreat? What are we losing in this social distancing? What are we gaining? How do I connect to loved ones outside my bubble? How do I love from a distance? How do I have hope without expectations? How do I plan without hubris?

How do I show my willingness to live? How do I serve and do justice to life itself? How would I write my resume for a career in life?

The quote above reassures me that I don’t have to be anything. I just have to live life the best I can. Let life flow through me including all the questions, uncertainties and losses. It isn’t good or bad, its simply braving life, willfully.

Living well is an miraculous achievement.

Today I have eaten well, rested well, noticed my surrounding well, connected with those sheltering in place with me, I spoke, I shared, cooked and cooked, cleaned, contributed beyond my walls as best as I could. I did not change the world. I witnessed life lived in my tiny corner of the universe. That has to be enough.

I’ll admit, some days it feels easier to stay under the covers and hide from life.

We are all independent contractors invested in the career of life. We do better when we collaborate instead of compete.

Give yourself a performance review today. How do you rate your career in life ?

I wish you willingness to experience life’s events, beautiful and scary,

Hungyphil