Hunger is the worst of diseases ~ the Buddha

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Hot Cross Buns, Magnum PI's Grin, & the Anger That Arises in Meditation (w Yin-Tangy, Not Quite White Icing)

*Please note: I am not including a recipe for traditional Hot Cross Buns here because, frankly, I do not have the inclination these days to come up with a gluten-free version of something I or the people I love do not love.  Plus, sometimes we make it worse by ruminating--or even, meditating--on a thing; there's the off-chance that sifting through the images and childhood memories of overprocessed, stale, storebought buns with criss-crosses of white sugar icing really will make me angry. And that is not what cooking meditation is about.

Maybe anger with regard to meditation is too strong a word--but soooo few people under the age of 40 know this usage of the word, cross, as in: "If you don't learn to just breathe and be in the moment soon, I am reaaallly going to get cross with you, Self."

The same people who know this kind of cross to bear also have a stunningly comprehensive brain backlog of complete Magnum PI episodes, as well as memory co-eds skipping across their hippocampuses toward get-togethers at The Regal Beagle, where Tom Selleck and/or John Ritter endlessly grin and use "buns" to mean, um, "sit-bones," that I thought I might clarify.

These people may recognize this feeling (which is just a feeling, mind you!--isn't that comforting?): Sometimes, when we are seeking peace in meditation, what we find is every single obstacle in ourselves to that peace, and they are not external--though they do tend to be exacerbated by other people's non-sitting grinning, I have noticed. 

This includes, but is not limited to: adorable husbands who don't have to sit for so long like you do, who can read Be Here Now once and chirp, "Hey, this is GREAT. I already do this!!"and walk away; children who are busy constructing catapults & launching stuffed animals and uncooked eggs into the kitchen because it's Saturday morning and they want you to play; and simply, your SELF: sitting too long, and having your buns/sit-bones go numb.

Because, maybe what I actually need to do is stand up and...stretch?

This type of anger, mostly directed at ourselves and our perceived shortcomings, has a real, well...stale storebought quality to it. You start to sense that it's not real, but a story you're telling yourself about yourself--it's got that exact tin-canned, fakey cinnamon roll icing taste to it. Sometimes your meditation feels stale, too, and once you stand up and stretch a while, you simply discover it's gone away, it's empty, a wasted white sugar aftertaste.

Okay, I lied:
Here is a pretty good recipe I just stood up and came up with for non-gakky white icing that you could put on all kinds of good things. Even Hot Cross Buns.

Yin-Tangy, Not Quite White Icing:
1/2 C. coconut milk
2 egg whites, beaten
1/2 T. agave syrup (more, to taste)
1/2 tsp. potato starch

This is a very loose recipe (literally and figuratively). It's tangy-sweet. If you're not into knowing where your eggs are from, or uncooked egg whites, it's not for you. However, it's not meant to sit.
You kind of have to use it in the moment, and then go on with your day.

Note: I didn't intend to make anything this morning, or to post; I just posted yesterday, which is not my, pattern. The recipe hit me as I wrote, and suddenly I was just whipping it up and snapping one (not 300) picture, and ready to hit "post."
I was suspicious: it just came together too quickly, too easily--and I expressed this concern to aforementioned adorable husband, who grinned and said:
"I never question it when things come easily."

Ah. There's the fruit or (coco)nut of this cooking meditation, wisdom which may never get stale--but no amount of sitting will get you there until you just experience it standing up.

That man is really, truly sweet.

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