A few years after I started practicing consistently, these words presented themselves to me during meditation one morning. Ever since, I have closed my practice with them, contemplating all the different situations to which this sentence applies to: relationships, my body, my soul, the earth....As well as trying to apply them to as many of them as possible.
We live in a world where we are constantly judged by how much more we have and how much we can: how much more can we buy, how much more can we work, how much more can we fit, how much more can we do. Our worth or our success seems to be measured by how much in so many ways.
But rarely is how much we are giving back considered. How much do we give back to our bodies, for kindly operating the way that they do every day so that we can in turn do more?
How much do we give back to our loved ones for everything that they do for us? How much do we give back to our bosses, or our employees, or our coworkers? How much do we give back to our planet?
And what is the relationship between how much we take and how much we return? Those words remind me daily to try and balance that energy. To consider how much I am returning, and not only how much I am taking, for
" Your worth is not measured by what you have, but by what you give".
Years after these words entered my life, on a morning like any other, as I closed my practice and repeated the mantra sending its sensory vibrations into the air, one of them shifted. Instead of "give" the word "need" nestled herself in there.
Take only as much as you need, and always give back more than you take...
huh... Interesting...
I pondered how this change affected the meaning of the sentence. I considered how much I take. Do I take only as much as I need? Not really... Do you? Probably not... And again, to how many areas of my life can I apply this sentence? Relationships, check; work, check; my body, check; the world, check.
I now change the word randomly, depending on what is currently arising in my life, and a few days ago, while I was at the farmers market, I was able to practice what I preach to myself everyday.
It was probably the last outside market of the season. The fall is in full swing, with rainbows of leaves fluttering in the wind everywhere I look, and yellow, brown and silver blankets crunching under my feet in every corner. But it is getting cold. Really cold. Winter will be upon us soon (maybe sooner than some want it to) and not only will the market move inside, but there will be less and less fresh produce every week.
So, as I walked through the stalls, and saw the many fresh colorful vegetables still available, I wanted to get them all. I stood in front of the most beautiful yellow carrots I have EVER seen, and picked up a bunch. As soon as I touched them I remembered I had just bought a bag of carrots two days prior at the store. I really don't need these, I thought as I carefully placed them back on top of the stack, while the other voice in my head kept telling me how absolutely beautiful they were, and how sweet and delicious they must be. The next farm had some young fresh ginger. Gorgeous! This would be great for a chicken stir fry! Wait isn't there an old shriveling piece of ginger in the crisper? Yes there is indeed...
Food is one area of our lives where we pretty much always take more than we need (and than we give for that matter). On a large scale we are not taking proper care of the earth and the soil, we are not giving back to the people growing our food (proper wages, political support, etc. ...) we are not even consciously thinking about where our food comes from and what is going to happen because we keep taking more than we need and give.
On on a small scale, there is usually much more than we need on our plate, in our pantry, in our refrigerator. My friend P's mom used to say that throwing away food is like throwing away money, but that no one would throw away a $20 bill. She was right. Money, energy, resources...
Yet, we always tend to over buy, or cook more than necessary, or just simply forget that last little whatever we had in the fridge until it has gone bad. Meanwhile, while we bathe in this surplus of plenty, there are so many people and places that don't have enough. It's not a matter of guilt, it's a matter of respect.
I think we really need to reconsider what we put in the cart, in the bag, and on the plate, and my market experience reminded me to do this as often as I can.
Tonight I prepared a lovely chicken stew. I used up the old ginger, and some sweet potatoes and cilantro I had from the previous week's market. I used some leftover coconut milk and miso that were hanging around in the fridge. I used the carrots I had bought at the store, and last but not least the colorful peppers, last of the season.
I was able to take my mantra off the mat and into my kitchen, and in return ended up with some delicious food, and my crisper is now empty, ready for next week's market bounty.
I hope this will inspire me to " take only as much as I need, and always give back more than I take" in many other areas of my life, one small step (or chicken stew) at a time...
Mantra Chicken
6 ea Chicken Thighs, skin off
1 ea Onion, sliced
4 ea Garlic cloves, minced
1 TB Chopped ginger (fresh or shriveled)
1 ea Sweet potato, cut into 1" chunks
5 ea Carrots, cut into 1" chunks
8 ea Small mixed peppers, sliced (or 3 large ones)
2 cups Coconut Milk
2 TP Miso
2 ea Limes, juice and zest
1 ea Orange, segments and the leftover juice
1/2 bu Cilantro
Note: The miso is salty enough on it's own, so I only salted the chicken. Depending on what miso you use or how much you add, you might need to also salt the vegetables as you sauté them.
In a blender, mix the coconut milk, cilantro, lime juice and zest, orange segments and juice and miso until thoroughly blended. Reserve.
Pat dry the chicken thighs and season them with salt and pepper.
In a hot skillet sear the thighs in coconut oil until golden brown on both sides. Set aside.
Add the peppers and cook until the peppers are soft but not brown. Add the sweet potatoes and carrots and cook for about two minutes, stirring often.
