Let go and let flow...

                                                                       

" In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you."  Buddha

I read this quote a few days ago.  It resonated with so much of what I believe in.  I felt a surge of peace, knowing that I have been blessed to have loved so much.  In the grand scheme of things, I have lived rather gently as well.  But when it comes to letting go, I am not that great, at all.

In yoga, letting go is one of the most emphasized lessons.  We are urged to let go of our fears, of our expectations, of our pre-conceived notions of how things should be.  We are taught to accept, and allow.  To witness and to trust.

I am proud to say that when it comes to the little things, random banal daily challenges, my practice has helped me to let go.  I no longer obsess over the cleanliness of my home the way I used to (although I bet my husband would argue on this one).  I no longer stress too much  when I miss my bus, or when I accidentally make a giant mess while I am in a hurry.  I breathe, I let go, and I deal with the issue at hand in a calm and kind manner.

However, when it comes to more meaningful, life altering matters,  as hard as I try, there are just some things that I find extremely challenging to let go of.

  Even when my intellect can reason with me that everything happens for a reason, or that it's "good ridance" as Americans always say, I find myself holding on to moments, to words, to emotions, to experiences. 

A great yoga teacher once said " how you practice your yoga is how you do everything in life".  In many ways, I definitely agree with that, and to me, it also applies to cooking.  So, true to form, when it comes to food, I also have a hard time letting go.

I have a hard time letting go of a specific ingredient that I forgot to get and needed (or wanted) for a recipe or meal.  I have a hard time letting go when a dish that didn't come out just right.  I have a hard time quieting down my ego (and my taste buds) when I forget something and overcook it, or when I completely forget to serve something I prepared for a special meal (believe it or not that has happened on more than one occasion).  And I have a really hard time dealing with the fact that sometimes the kind of wholesome natural foods I eat on a regular basis are rather challenging to find.

                                           

   Last week, I was in Doral, Florida.  Northwest of Miami beach, this small community is best described as what my husband likes to call "strip mall Florida".  I was spending a few days with my mom, my grandma and my dad, as I helped take care of my mom after she had surgery to fix a broken wrist.  In my opinion, the most important element in healing both the body and the spirit, is food prepared with love. 

 So, one of my main jobs while in Florida was to cook for them.  I knew once I left, their diet would consist of ham and cheese sandwiches, and they are all fine with that.  But while I was there, I would make sure they had delicious and nutritious food to indulge in. 

   The first night, straight out of the hospital, everyone still very tired from their respective flights and in my mom's case from having major surgery, I scavenged through the cabinets in the apartment.  This apartment is used only when people in my family travel to Miami for a few days or weeks at a time.  Nobody lives there (my grandparents have had it for years) so the pantry is not very well stocked - a few boxes of wheat thins, a bag of chips, some random spices, tea, agave, honey, oil and vinegar and plenty of booze - the basics I guess.  One thing it does have however, is the most amazing vintage china EVER!

                                               

 I was lucky enough  to find an onion and some garlic in the freezer (thank you aunt Maggie!), some pasta, and some frozen tomato sauce.  I chopped the onion and the garlic, threw it in the sauce, added a cinnamon stick, some dried oregano, a little honey and some salt and pepper, and we were good to go.  Not my best meal, but pretty damn good for what I had to work with.
The next morning, my dad and I headed to Publix, which was the only grocery store less than a twenty minute drive from the apartment, in search of ingredients for my task.

  It's always interesting for me to see what is available at a classic American supermarket.
 When, like me, you are used to shopping at your local farmers market, or at a co-op grocery, or even at Whole Foods, a regular run of the mill American supermarket can leave you a bit lost.  There are at least 3 or 4 more processed food aisles than what you might be used to, there are no options when it comes to pastured or sometimes even free range meats (a lot of "natural" meats out there, which we all know doesn't mean anything...), and once you finally make it to the produce area, you may find that the fruits and vegetables displayed there are not at their best.  But, as I learned when I was a volunteer at the Red Cross in my early teens, you work with what you have at hand. 

As I prepared the various dishes I had decided upon (Tom Kha Ga, Curried lentils and Quinoa, Lime and Pomegranate Tuna Salad, Brown Rice) I thought about the choices I had made.  That tuna was most likely not dolphin safe,  those chickens were not even close to free range...The peppers weren't organic... But the fact of the matter was, there was nothing I could do about any of it.  I would prepare it with the greatest care, I would pour all my love into it, and the result would be delicious, and although not as nutritious as it could be, still nourishing.

You see,  if I held on to the fact that these ingredients were not the best per se, then I would have poured that negative energy into what I was cooking, and I would have depleted my energy by focusing on it, instead of using it to prepare these meals, and to focus on all the other extremely important tasks at hand (such as watching my perfect little niece nap).  Instead,  I really let it go.  I chopped, I seasoned, I seared, I tasted, I adjusted, I simmered, I tasted again.  Everything was great.  Everything was tasty.  Everything was nourishing.

                                                      

  Those meals made me realize, that if I could let go of that, I could certainly let go of all the other things I am currently holding on to. 
  Some are completely out of my control.  Others, no longer serve me.  And yet others are just really not that important.  By holding on to them I am wasting precious energy that I could be using for other, more important and beneficial things.  In contrast,  by letting go,  I will be free.

So, I choose to let go, or as my friend L told me once "Let it go, and let it flow..."

Letting Go Curried Lentils

1   cup              Lentils (any kind will do)
1   small           Onion, diced
2   cloves         Garlic, minced
1   ea                Cubanelle pepper, diced
1   TB              Curry Powder (I used Jamaican)
1   TB              Olive Oil
1   tsp               Apple Cider Vinegar
                         Salt, Pepper

In a small saucepan, heat the olive oil on a medium flame.  Add the onions, garlic and pepper,
and cook until they are soft and fragrant but not brown.  Add the lentils and the curry, and toss around with a wooden spoon until everything is mixed well and the lentils look shiny from the oil.  Add about 1 1/2 cups of water (enough so that the lentils are completely submerged and there is about 1/2 inch of water above them) and season with salt and pepper.  Taste the liquid and adjust the seasoning accordingly (you can add more curry if needed).  Bring to a boil and immediately turn down to a slow simmer.  Simmer gently until the lentils are cooked through (they will still be whole, but will be soft when you try them).  Add the vinegar and taste.  Add more if needed.
Serve with some cooked quinoa.  You can garnish with chopped cilantro and pomegranate seeds if you wish.