Lets eat first…
I say this a lot. Eating and food are so important to me. People that say they forget to eat are an absolute mystery. Like fitted sheets. I just don’t get it. When I plan out activities, my first thought is ‘should we eat first?’ Should I bring a snack? 90% of the time, I eat before we leave.
Growing up, my family was busy, and we all ran our different ways except for dinner time. My mom made it a point that we had to sit around the table and eat. If we did nothing together, at least we ate dinner. Of all my memories, this one of they few that feels like our family made some resemblance of connection. The conversations weren’t particularly engaging or oozing with vulnerability. We just laughed a lot. Usually at the expense of someone, which I’m embarrassed to admit, but whats done is done.
I’ve changed the conversation around my own table to a much more vulnerable, open and safe space for sharing. It’s such a great place to open up, and share with each other our thoughts and ideas. Here's an example of some of our conversations: religion, mental health, life choices, new relationships, old relationships, trauma, did Jesus masturbate? There is basically no topic off limits. The Jesus masturbation question was valid. On one end, one friend who asked the question thought why not, and the rest of us thought, no. But then our minds were changed. We thought, yeah why not? I mean he was a person, right? Did he have sexual urges? Who knows but it was definitely a thinker. I love that!
Over these dinners we have laughed, I have cried (obviously), there have been issues resolved, reconnections made, new relationships built, all around our table. Of course any table will do, but in addition to that, presenting food that I’ve made feels scary and vulnerable but exciting all at the same time. I like to cook and try something new but I also put my heart and soul into it. So I’m more scared than excited. Ha! If I’m cooking a meal I am a bundle of nerves until they take the first bite. Once thats done and they say “Its good.” or “Oh thats different.” I can relax. I can take a breath. The highest compliment someone can give me is after eating a meal (or during) and they say "This feels like love." My heart is soaring!
On the flip side, being cooked for is ok. I don’t feel loved from others if they cook for me. I can, however, taste when someone's love language is cooking. I usually cry. I can feel the emotion and love put into the food. I have cried over a slice of pizza before. I’m lactose intolerant so I never eat cheese, but I decided it looked so good, I saw the person who made it and I had to try it. I cut the smallest slice, and braced myself for whatever it was going to taste like. After that one bite, I couldn’t take it. Tears start rolling down my face and I had to cry. I had to let it out. I tasted love, and years of passion and work. It’s ironic that pizza, a simple and very common meal, can have so much love put into it. It was more than delicious.
Inviting someone over to our house for dinner is our way of showing that we care about you and we want to get to know you. Food is important to me and one way that I like to show that you are loved. Food allows me to share my deepest feelings of love and literally serve it up on a plate. The possibility of connection, and the opportunity to slow down and just be with one another, is one that I cant pass up.