One of the perks of my new job is free yoga classes (I know!). A few days ago, I took a class with a lovely woman named Dede. She is fun, joyful and energetic, and has one of those smiles that literally light up the room when she walks in. As she guided us through the sun salutations, to the beat of the carefully selected soundtrack she was playing for us, I opened my arms in Virabhadrasana and the word "receive" showered my whole being. As we danced through her sequence, syncing breath and movement, every time our arms were either up or laying on the floor, I found myself facing my palms towards the sky and feeling that word, which by now had turned into an emotion, enveloping my body and soul: receive.
On my way home, a crazy man decided I was the person that he wanted to chat with while waiting for the bus. At first, I kindly smiled at him, but tried to keep reading. Then the word came back to my mind: receive. I closed my book and engaged in conversation with him. Once we parted ways I felt lighter.
Instead of trying to fight a battle that I was never going to win (trust me, he wasn't going to stop talking just because I wasn't listening, he was completely coo coo) and creating aversion by focusing on how I thought things should be (me catching up on my reading while waiting for the bus) I surrendered and accepted the moment as it what, and in turn experienced a sense of calm and harmony with the world around me.
Later that day, as other little annoying or unwanted things arose, the word kept coming back to my mind, inviting me to accept, for it is all part of the path.
Which brings me to the abominable eggplant. As many of you know from a previous post, this has never been one of my favorite vegetables. And in true "Murphy's law" fashion, the CSA I signed up for grew more eggplant than anything else this summer.
As a matter of fact, it's October and those eggplants are still showing up every Wednesday. The first few weeks, I would ignore them, and then reluctantly throw them into a stew when they were almost going bad. Or roast them, and chop them up and freeze them for when the winter is here and there are NO vegetables. I even made ratatouille, as peppers and tomatoes were also abundant for a few weeks. But in all those preparations, I still did not enjoy them.
After my "receive" revelation during practice, I changed my attitude towards my eggplant friends. I decided to receive them with love and affection. If they were showing up, they were meant to be in my diet, so I should accept them, and find a way to enjoy them. What do I love that is made with eggplants?
Well. I LOVE dips, so in the past, when eggplants would somehow infiltrate themselves into my kitchen, I would always make melitzano salata, the Greek eggplant spread.
http://www.offthematandintothekitchen.blogspot.com/2012_09_24_archive.html
However, since it was the only thing I ever made with eggplants, I was a bit tired of it, so
I decided to find out what other cultures eggplant dips were all about, and before I got my next inevitable eggplant delivery, I stumbled upon David Lebovitz's post on Baba Ganoush. Bingo! (http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2008/07/baba-ganosh/ ). His recipe was extremely simple, and other than waiting for the eggplants to roast, it was also pretty quick.
A few nights ago, as I enjoyed my lovely eggplant dip, I thought of how our labels limit us from receiving the gifts that the universe might have in store for us. By thinking and saying that I don't really like eggplant, I was stifling my creativity to cook something with it that I would actually enjoy.
In the same way, when we become attached to preconceived notions of ourselves , either inflicted to us by our parents and teachers, or by our past selves, we limit our ability to experience the full spectrum of our character, and even our choices. This is also true for the labels we choose for others, our relationships or even mundane tasks in life. Once again, by holding on to the idea of how we think things should be or are, we either create aversion to how they truly are, or prevent ourselves from experiencing how they could be.
When I first met J, due to preconceived notions I had of him passed down from some mutual friends and acquaintances, I didn't think much of him. Had I not shifted my perspective, I might have missed out on one of the greatest gifts I have ever received: our love and our marriage.
