Are you healthy (mentally)?

As a therapist, I focus on presenting issues, the problems that compel a person to sit with me. Sure, I balance these functional impairments by looking for strengths and support. Still, the focus is on identifying and repairing damage, secondary and tertiary prevention.

I came across a list of indicators for positive ego strength while studying for the licensing exam. It was refreshing to look at a list of positive mental health criteria instead of DSM5 criteria for disorders.

I found myself checking my own emotional/ ego strength. Some items on the list are easier for me than others. Check to celebrate your own strengths and ability to live a full life.

  • Acknowledging their feelings – including grief, insecurity, loneliness, anxiety
  • Not getting overwhelmed with their moods
  • Pushing forward after loss and not being paralyzed by self-pity or resentment
  • Using painful events to strengthen themselves
  • Knowing that painful feelings will eventually fade
  • Empathizing with others without trying to reduce or eliminate their pain
  • Being self-disciplined and fighting addictive urges
  • Taking responsibility for actions
  • Holding themselves accountable
  • Not blaming others
  • Accepting themselves with their limitations
  • Setting firm limits event if it means disappointing others or risking rejection
  • Avoiding people who drain them physically or emotionally
  • Tolerance of pain associated with loss, disappointment, shame or guilt
  • Forgiveness of others with feelings of compassion rather than anger
  • Persistence and perseverance in pursuit of goals
  • Openness, flexibility, creativity in learning to adapt

From Social Work ASWB Masters Exam Guide by Dawn Apgar, 2018.

Don’t know what happiness feels like?

I often hear versions of this confession from my clients. When a child has trouble answering, “How do you feel when you’re happy?” it poses an additional challenge.

In a recent attempt to explain, this is what I did:

Can you feel the chair underneath you? (Focusing on sensations)

What does it feel like?

Can you grab something near you? Pen, bottle of lotion, toy….

Is it hard or soft, shiny or dull, does it have a smell, is it fuzzy, it it cool or warm…a sort of 20 questions of sensations.

Once this child understood physical sensation. I asked her, what does it feel like when your mom hugs you or when you are playing with your friends?

She smiled. Still having trouble describing the sensations.

I asked her, in those times do you want to stay or leave?

“stay there” she said.

Ahhhh….so maybe happiness feels like wanting to just stay. She smiled. Maybe when you feel yourself smiling, it might be happiness?

This little person taught me that happiness is wanting to stay, wanting to be present, not wanting to escape or the feeling to end.

She may not yet know what happiness feels like but we maybe getting closer to finding out.

What does happiness feel like for you?

May you stay in ease, stay in goodness,

Hungryphil

Architect of my soul

Long ago as an architecture student, I would dream about walking through the designs I was working on (this often turned into nightmares!). Even today, I often dream of being lost in interior spaces both familiar and unfamiliar. It is no surprise that architectural metaphors, thinking and space infuse my understanding of philosophy and therapy. After all, my dissertation was about Heidegger used in architecture. Now, I’m working on Eugene Gendlin’s understanding of Heidegger in Focusing therapy.

Most clients I work with are trapped in time. Traumatic time. For me, I work as their architect, creating space in their lives for the present, for love, for forgiveness, for openness, for beauty.

In therapy I invite others into my own metaphorical home where I am centered, happy and at peace. Maintaining this house is my professional duty. I spend one day a week, at least, cleaning, repairing and organizing this home. As I write, I am organizing this home by opening the windows into my process. This is related to Expressive Arts Therapy and an attempt to digest a reformated “introjection” about the idea of home for me.

Ask yourself, when do I feel completely at home?

The answer will show you the way to your inner eternal space, out of your time, your history, your expectations. This also the basis of the “safe place” mindfulness practice often utilized in treating trauma and anxiety.

Now ask yourself, what brings me back towards home, when I feel lost?

The answer will show you the road, the stops, the vehicle you need to return to yourself. For me, the road includes, connecting with my daughters, husband, reading and buying new books, learning something new, listening to music, eating something delicious ( I am after all the hungry-philosopher) and writing (as I am now).

Whether or not you work in counseling and healing services, it is imperative that you be a home maker.

A home-maker. An architect of your own soul NOT a house-wife, trapped in a role construction. Many of us, most our lives, live as housewives not homemakers.

Today may you be your own home-maker architect and may this confidence allow you to invite others who need space,

Hungryphil

Pausing or Stuck?

How can I move on and grow when I’m back at home with my parents?

…I’ve been asked various versions of this question as a counselor.

At best the question exposes the uncomfortable struggle between needing support and wanting autonomy. At worst it hides destructive shame and self-doubt.

Yes, I answer.. this is your question, emphasizing the first important part of the question “How can YOU move and grow … merely qualifying the question with “when back at home with my parents?” Sometimes, a slight shift in tone starts to open up possibilities, a space to grow.

First of all, I want to continue, autonomy is a myth. We all need different levels of help. (Reality testing)

Second, ask yourself “how can I move and grow today?” Find yourself again and again. Imagined paths to independence may look a bit different at first until you find your horizon. (Partializing)

Third, how do you want to grow? Towards self-sufficiency, autonomy, independent social life, self-management and direction? Redefine the sentence for yourself: “A grown up is ……….” (Expressive Arts/ working with introjects)

Some days it may feel like a restorative pause in the rhythm of your life. Other days it may feel like a constraining reversal that propels you forward.

Often, you may just feel stuck.

In any case, it’s the question “how can I ________?” that matters. The if/when qualifiers are secondary. (empowerment)

When I find myself feeling stuck, I try to find some small way to move, to wiggle slightly, maybe even just reach up my arms to stretch, something, anything to keep holding the possibility “How can I…….?”

What do you do when you feel stuck? How do you cope and keep moving?

Hope you move through your day with ease. Thank you for reading.

Hungryphil

Shortcake in Dhaka: Raymond Loewy and Culinary Metaphors in Design

This post reports on a 2012 lecture delivered at BRAC University in Dhaka, Bangladesh about “Strawberry Shortcake and Raymond Loewy’s Sears Cold Spot Super Six Refrigerator.” The invitation, content and response to the lecture practice a form of global design history that mediates cultural criteria of taste. In order to articulate design possibilities inherent in the public implications of personal preferences, the lecture hoped to generate a conversation about the relevance of design history for design practice in Bangladesh.

Method and Thesis

The lecture arose out of a larger book project that considers the role of metaphorical logic in Raymond Loewy’s 1951 autobiography, Never Leave Well Enough Alone.[1] The project offered a celebratory and cautionary reading of the autobiography and investigates the implications of his MAYA principle of palatable design for 20th Century American democracy. Using culinary references as metaphors of consumption and taste, the interpretation charts the evolution and decline of Raymond Loewy as a personification of industrial design’s superficial and substantive contributions to the American dream. In light of the eventual bankruptcy of Loewy International in 1976, his 1951 autobiography becomes a poignant self-aware and self-fulfilling statement of loss. The aim of the larger project was threefold:

  1. Offer exegetical analysis of Never Leave Well Enough Alone as an object of design mediated by Loewy’s construction of metaphors.
  2. Through a deconstructive reading of the text chart the demise of Loewy International as an inevitable culmination of Loewy’s MAYA principle.
  3. Place Loewy through his writing within a larger discussion about the material manifestation of democracy in 20th Century America.

The metaphorical, deconstructive and democratic reading of Loewy’s autobiography hoped to shed new light on American modern design and expose the public implications of our personal preferences as consumers and producers. Furthermore, the project suggested that in the post-industrial age of DIY, customization, 3D printing and user participation, articulations of emotive personal experiences and rationally deliberated public choice characterizes the democratic agency of design.

The primary goal of the class session in Dhaka was to test the pedagogical application of this metaphorical, deconstructive and democratic design history.  Specifically, I wanted to encourage design students to analyze the public and professional implications of their personal preferences as exemplified by Raymond Loewy’s autobiography. A convergence of the autobiographical, political and professional, characterizes Loewy’s successful period of production between 1930s and 1960s. Correspondingly disconnect evident in incomplete metaphors like “Swiss cheese and rye” accompany the decline of his practice. Learning from Loewy’s lesson, can designers translate their individual consumption habits into shared consumption? If we apply a metaphorical perspective to design inspiration, what directions might emerge?

Anatomy of the Class Session

Between two options on lecture topics, the BRAC University Dean of Architecture chose the option that discussed the design implications of American industrial designer Raymond Loewy’s preference for strawberry shortcake as a model for American identity and consumption habits. The other option was a lecture on William Morris and the critical relevance of the Arts and Crafts movement for Bangladesh that could re-contextualize issues of sustainability, craft, labor, materials, subjective expression and mechanical production. The dean’s choice of topic showed a preference for present relevance of disciplinary practice over historical re-interpretation. As such, the class session was motivated by an imperative to make design history directly relevant to studio practice rather than through a discussion about historical reception. The analysis of metaphors as design inspiration hoped to expose designer motivations instead of user interpretations.

I began the session by asking each student to write down a favorite food or dish (as it was the month of Ramadan, I subsequently apologized profusely for asking them to think about food at a time when many would be fasting). Not knowing the reason for writing down such a personal preference certainly left students trained towards rational responses somewhat confused. Despite their initial reluctance many did scribble down their preference.

Next, I spoke about French immigrant industrial designer Raymond Loewy’s chapter on “American Cooking” in his autobiography 1951 Never Leave Well Enough Alone. I made the argument that Loewy’s celebration of burgers and strawberry shortcake was consistent with his design aesthetic. I explained that:

Loewy invited a French friend of his for dinner in order to defend the reputation of American food. His menu consisted of cream of clams, fried chicken, corn fritters, braised endive, romaine salad and ended with strawberry shortcake.  He wrote, 

“The strawberry short cake was a dream. The old-fashioned biscuit was covered with a generous amount of ripe strawberries at the last minute to avoid sogginess. The fruit had been crushed ever so slightly and allowed to remain for an hour or so in a light syrup to which it transferred its flavor and its adorable pinkness. A restrained amount of fluffy whipped cream was placed on top. An important point: the cake as oven warmed, but the strawberries and whipped cream were cool. The contrast is pleasing.” [2]

The philosophy of simple and few ingredients, timely preparation, restrained cream and contrasting textures, I suggested, extended into his design. His Cold Spot Super Six can be interpreted to follow the same principle of the cake: Few parts, as in the few moving parts, restrained garnish as in the 3 vertical bands, contrast in texture, unity of exterior and compartments of interior etc. This retention of details, the haunting of the hausfrou aesthetic, supports his MAYA principle that his book advocates. The MAYA principle, an acronym, was a call to design with the MOST ADVANCED YET ACCEPTABLE technology. The three vertical stripes were the garnishes that made the technology of the refrigerator acceptable or palatable to American aesthetic taste.

This lesson of acceptability Loewy learned from the American housewives he criticized as being responsible for bland aesthetic and food. It was the housewives, who were the primary customers and consumers of his domestic products. He sought aesthetic balance between functionality and decorative that would make his Cold Spot Super Six so very popular (sales rose over 300%). By changing the ratio between the functional and the decorative, Loewy found the sweet spot of mid century modern American taste.

I summarized Loewy’s appreciation of strawberry shortcake in relation to his disdain for mayonnaise, I compared it to Adolf Loos’ celebration of roast beef, and finally, I connected Loewy’s ornament to function ratio evident in his refrigerator to the ratio of whip cream to shortcake.  My reading of Loewy’s culinary descriptions as metaphors for design connected the form of his refrigerator with the form of his dessert. Having charted the narrative, the relevance and the implication of Raymond Loewy’s preference for strawberry shortcake, I then asked the students to look at the food preference they wrote down. How would they translate their preference into a design aesthetic, as Loewy had?

Emergent Metaphors

The discussion that the story prompted is evidence of the critical and creative capacity of design history interpreted through cultural metaphors. In particular, the use of culinary metaphors permitted an analysis of rational relationships without privileging a particular system. For example, instead of conceptually arguing the merits of Loewy’s MAYA principle, we were able to discuss his logic of essential and ornamental dynamics.  I would like to highlight three questions that generated most dialogue related to attempts to translate cultural and culinary taste into visual taste.

1. Pizza and the Problem of Definition

When asked to share their food preferences, one student said that pizza was his favorite food. I should confess that I was expecting local dishes to be local favorites and that the preference for pizza surprised me. The student’s choice made me aware of my own simplistic cultural expectations. We asked, how would a preference for pizza translate into a local aesthetic? In trying to articulate the essential ingredients and structure of a pizza, the discussion quickly became about definitions of pizza. We identified the essential ingredients as dough, sauce and cheese. The ratio of these ingredients would determine a taste for the ornamental or the functional.  Toppings, beyond the three essential ingredients would be considered ornamental, even if meat.  We arrived at an aesthetic principle, whereby the essential and the ornamental were articulated through applied toppings over the basic ingredients of cheese, dough and sauce. This is when the logic of cheese, dough and sauce, was questioned. What if, what is understood as ‘pizza’ in Bangladesh is not consistent with what is understood as ‘pizza’ elsewhere? For example, many street vendors sell small flat dough rounds with a bit of sauce and meat, with little or no cheese, as pizza. Would that become the local articulation of a Western recipe? For people unaware of ‘Pizza Hut’ or American pizza, that would be the standard. What is the standard structure of pizza? Who decides? When does the definition of pizza fail?  Ironically, the minimal cheese version of pizza in Bangladesh, I suggested may be closer to the traditional Italian pizza. This comment raised another layer of complexity related to cultural translations of culinary recipes and by extension aesthetic criteria. We had started by talking about the proportion of essential and inessential, functional and ornamental, as a way to structure taste, yet the discussion quickly turned to the global flexibility of culinary definitions, and consequently aesthetic standards.  The problem of definitive aesthetic standards exposes an imperative towards an individual narrative of design. Depending on how a designer defines pizza, he or she can use it as a culinary recipe worthy of visual translation. The pizza metaphor allowed us to reconsider criteria of aesthetic relationships. How could we reimagine the Cold spot refrigerator through the logic of pizza, instead of strawberry shortcake? Would we allow more customizable ornamentation?

We also talked about how Loewy’s preference for burgers carried a different implication than the student’s preference for pizza. Loewy appreciated the portability, individuality of diner burgers. A pizza, although layered, is meant for collective consumption or individual slices. An aesthetic derived from a metaphor of pizza would permit, an individual and/or a collective experience, a casual but not portable experience, and a standard form with customizable options. The discussion of pizza was a proxy discussion about aesthetic structures through experiences of taste rather than stylistic conceptualizations.

2. Chicken Curry and the problem of a western meat and gravy dynamic

We also considered a cultural problem with Loewy’s identification of meat with the essential. In a Bengali context where spices determine the character of a dish, the significance of the protein content diminishes. In an attempt to apply Loewy’s logic to chicken curry our discussion faltered. Related to the question of definition, we asked, what makes a curry, the choice of protein, the method or the spices? The group agreed that the combination of spices determine the character of a curry. However without the meat, lentils or vegetables the spices would have no substance to adhere. The structure of curry seems to resist analysis into distinct components. The western criteria of layering fails when the ingredients are so inextricably codetermined that ascribing value as essential and inessential becomes impossible. There is no hierarchy of ingredients. How would such taste visually translate? How would we visually design without hierarchy but with coherent complexity? What makes a chicken curry cohesive? We considered not only the significance of multiplicity but also the increased role of process and layering of tastes. What would be a way to construct a layered and complex visual experience? Here Loewy’s promotion of simplicity through the metaphor of the strawberry shortcake failed to resonate.

3. Cardamom and the problem of qualified consumption

A third issue addressed during our discussion, concerned spices used for flavoring but not meant for consumption. For example, cardamom, tastes horrible, yet is deemed necessary for an enhanced smell.  Just as cinnamon bark or bay leaves are used extensively with the assumption that the diner will consciously not ingest these spices. How do we understand these intentional production inclusions and exclusions in consumption? This issue related to taste and use depends on local culinary convention. What may be equivalent visual conventions? A basic understanding of the use of spices is needed in order for the consumer to determine which spices are meant for direct consumption. How do we understand and design for process residue? How do we resolve the paradox of spices essential for taste but not consumption? In the Loewy logic of essential and ornamental, what would cardamom be defined as? The problem of cardamom returns us to the limits of the Loewy logic whereby design distinctions between the essential and the ornamental are culturally and locally determined.

Conclusion: Towards A Metaphorical History of Design?

These problems of interpretation, definition and application allow us to rethink design as a constructed dynamic between the practical and the symbolic, the essential and the superficial. It allowed for a shared discussion about design history and philosophy by proxy through a discussion about our personal experiences of food. My primary teaching intent was to expose the creative potential of personal narrative in design disciplines. I invoked Loewy’s autobiographical moment as a way to reinforce the professional implications of personal preferences. In doing so, I hoped students would find design potential inherent in their personal passions and choices, beyond culinary examples.

About teaching design history in Bangladesh, the lecture reminded me that local design identity is complex and not simply a matter of Western engagement or non-engagement. The students as cosmopolitan citizens of the world live multi-cultural lives where local and global influences are indistinguishable.[3] They are less interested in a quest for local identity and more interested in a search for global relevance. I suspected that if I present design principles instead of forms then possible options for applications would increase.  For example by introducing the MAYA principle in association with Loewy’s personal preferences and aesthetic criteria, instead of simply introducing Loewy and his streamline look of the Coldspot Super Six, we open interpretative possibilities beyond identifying a historical moment of stylistic evolution.

The class discussion helped me interpret my own research from an oblique and peripheral perspective. Reading Loewy in Dhaka highlighted his philosophy as premised on cultural assumptions that require critique for inspiration and qualified application. His designs were most successful when his metaphors resonated with his target audience in America. He identified his own style as contemporary American, not modern, not streamlined. He deliberately tried to merge American tradition with mechanical simplicity. As a Frenchman, cultural interpretation was a necessary condition for the development of his profession in the U.S. and the definition of his MAYA principle. Ironically, the success and failure of his design firm rested on his interpretative capacity to determine cultural acceptability.

About the use of metaphorical interpretation as a design method, I agree with John Maeda’s formulation that,

Metaphors are useful platforms for transferring a large body of existing knowledge from one context to another with minimal, often imperceptible, effort on the part of the person crossing the conceptual bridge. But metaphors are only deeply engaging if they surprise along some unexpected, positive dimension……A metaphor used as a learning shortcut for a complex design is most effective when its execution is both relevant and delightfully unexpected.[4]

Metaphors allow us to reinterpret the familiar through a change in perspective. Serving strawberry shortcake in Dhaka was an unexpected pedagogical way to introduce Raymond Loewy’s design inspiration as a provocation for students to rethink their own design motivations outside the studio. Design history can be a tool for practice only if it can lead designers back to the studio, obliquely, by orientation outside the studio. The metaphorical approach allowed us to have a design conversation about seemingly “undesigned” experiences of taste and sensation.

Similarly, In Metaphors We Live By, authors Lakoff and Johnson, argue that metaphors are a coherence of experienced connections that challenge a conceptual correspondence theory of reality.[5] The advantage of a metaphorical interpretation is at least twofold: first, it permits connections of otherwise unrelated experiences and second, metaphors allow us to focus on lived experience over conceptual abstraction through partial structuring. Lakoff and Johnson, distinguish metaphorical structuring (example: argument is war) from conceptual subcategorization (example: an argument is a conversation) and explain that metaphors allow orientation, variation, direction, emotion, and cultural mediation. Most significantly, for design, metaphorical structuring by designers allows comparisons and translations of experiences rather than concepts. According to Lakoff and Johnson,

From the experientialist perspective, metaphor is a matter of imaginative rationality. It permits an understanding of one kind of experience in terms of another, creating coherence by virtue of imposing gestalts that are structured by natural dimensions of experience. New metaphors are capable of creating new understandings and therefore, new realities.[6]

Successful new metaphors are able to resonate with others by structurally re-interpreting shared imagination and experiences. For example, Raymond Loewy’s example of burgers as a portable and layered bite of democracy was a relatable way to describe modern American living without formality.  By appealing to culinary metaphors of consumption, a designer can construct systems of coherence that shares personal experience. From Raymond Loewy we learn that the social resonance of these translated lived experiences determines, design success. We also learn the commercial and cultural limits of shared object focused experience. Particularly, as we shift towards the design of integrated experiences over the design of distinct products, the metaphor of dining experience offers clues toward constructing a narrative of tastes that encompass multi-senses and multi-cultures.  Shortcake in Dhaka facilitated a discussion about cross-cultural cooking metaphors as relevant to design practice. Furthermore, the discussion offered a post-colonial moment of reversal in perspective that challenged conventional interpretations of the MAYA principle.[7] The session practiced a metaphorical translation of experience into design motivation and made design history a tool for practice in the following ways:

First, the metaphorical interpretation framed a trans-cultural discussion about design inspiration. It allowed for a conversation about a shared experience of eating to be qualified by subjective experiences of taste. The response to the question, how could your favorite food motivate your design aimed to prompt considerations of identity, everyday practice, intentionality that shows everyday experience outside the studio as the possibility of conceptual projections in the studio.

Second, the discussion moved between gastronomic taste and visual taste and encouraged students to imagine multi-sensory experiences of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. This way design inspiration can be invoked from experiences beyond visual response.

Third, the metaphorical interpretation of Loewy’s autobiography presented living experience as a condition of design inspiration. Indeed, the students live a global condition of eating pizza and curry in Dhaka. Instead of conceptualizing design and globalization, students recognize their everyday lives as a global encounters, at the dinner table, in the streets and in the studio.

The metaphorical reading enhanced both the pedagogical and critical potential of design history. This may be a small but significant step towards articulating a multi-cultural conversation centered on diversity of experience and unity of objective materiality. It relates to current efforts towards global design history that overcomes center-periphery dynamics, a Western meta-narrative and an academic dominance of the English language. The Loewy metaphor of strawberry shortcake exposed continuities of personal and professional activities, experience and concept, consumption and production. In turn, the qualified metaphorical resonance of strawberry shortcake in Dhaka, as a discussion about the dynamics between fundamental and ornamental features, actively demonstrated cultural constructions of design connections.

In short, multi-cultural, multi-sensory and multi-dimensional experiences exposed by metaphorical interpretations of design history empower designers to construct their own “new realities.”


[1] Raymond Loewy, Never Leave Well Enough Alone. 1951. Baltimore: John Hopkins University.

[2] Raymond Loewy, Never Leave Well Enough Alone. 1951. Baltimore: John Hopkins University.

[3] Geeta Kapur, essay in Contemporary Art in Asia, 2011. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press.

[4] John Maeda, The Laws of Simplicity. 2006. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. p. 41.

[5] Lakoff and Johnson. Metaphors We Live By. 1980. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

[6] Ibid, 235. Emphasis to the phrase “Imaginative rationality” is mine.

[7] Homi Bhabha, The Location of Culture. 1994. Oxford: Routledge.

Image and recipe for Strawberry Shortcake from:

Strawberry Shortcake

After filling your cup

“What does the opposite of a seizure feel like for you? What are you doing when you are comfortable?”

“I am sipping coffee in the morning. The kids are off to school and it’s quiet.”

“Do you have a favorite coffee cup? Tomorrow morning try holding your coffee cup in your lap, feel the weight and texture of the cup, focus on how warm it is. Notice the steam rising. Take a sip. Follow the sip down into your belly. Feel the warmth travel.

Practice digesting quiet and easy moments like these. Grow the small joys, like following a sip of warm coffee in the morning. ”

Sometimes tea for me

May you fill your cup and follow your warmth today,

Hungryphil

Three steps forward…

Two steps back, is still progress right? At least movement.

In the therapy process we are looking for movement, doesn’t matter which direction. Movement shows struggle, shows vitality, shows emotional effort, even if in the seemingly negative direction.

Aristotle defines life as movement between contraries. If we are all composed of many parts, many contradictions, the movement of our attention and energy signals our soul in motion, alive and becoming. Like a designed work of art…

...”For a house is generated from objects which exist not in composition but are divided in a certain way, and likewise for a statue or anything that has been shaped from shapelessness; and what results in each of these are order in one case and composition in the other.

If, then, all this is true, everything that is generated or destroyed is so from or to a contrary or an intermediate. As for the intermediate, they are composed of contraries; the other colors, for example, are composed of white and black. Thus every thing which is generated by nature is a contrary or composed of contraries.”

from Aristotle’s Physics, Book A

Therapists will recognize this as resonant with Internal Family Systems, grief and loss integration, Dialectical Behavior Therapy and other systems that are premised on behavior change by integrating internal opposition.

In working with a client, we as counselors or therapists are guiding the recognition and acceptance of conflicting emotions. Here is my question for my fellow counselors out there….

How do you as a therapist integrate a conflicting sense of relief and shame when a client goes inpatient?

As you can see, I am trying to intellectualize and hide in my happy place of philosophy. This is still difficult for me to digest. If feel like I go three steps forward and two steps back in these situations. I have to remind myself that movement is good regardless of direction.

What are your strategies in addition to talking with peers and supervisors for support as I am now?

Thank you for reading the long prelude to the question.

Hope you are fully alive with contradictions,

Hungryphil

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