Tuesday, October 18, 2011

There was a period in my life

when I used to savor things. This seems to me to have been right after I got out of college. It may have been happening before, but I mark it then because I was taken out to eat by a friend who remarked that she loved how I savor things. At the time I would do it consciously for performance sake, but I think that instance caused me to invest in it more.

Thinking about it now, I believe it probably started while in school at least. I think I took flavor for granted growing up in The Boot State. I never even liked Tabasco until I had to deal with the comparatively bland campus food.

I bring this up...because I think I've lost that ability to savor...or am in a period of protracted separation from it.

And it feel like it's been since coming here to a place (geographically, metaphysically) that seems primarily to be about subsistence, survival. I eat the food I can get to. Even when I go to taste something, I feel like I'm wolfing it down, having to hurry up and finish it so it's consummation poses the least burden on my travel.

And things are hurried here.

At home/before here I had time to taste.

To savor.

Perhaps I should make a purposed effort to be somewhere* where that time exists again.

Or maybe there must be balance to stimulate action?

Hm.

(*Geo, though I can hear you already saying meta.    You nerds)

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