A few years ago, I was called an ingredient of someone's discontent. Yuk. I guess I was glad that I wasn't the entire entree of his discontent, but still, I was an ingredient of it. Didn't really like the way that sounded until I took a little time to pick apart what that really means. The man who said it to me is probably the smartest man I know, and he picks his words like a fine, sushi chef, at the dock or the fish house at 3 a.m. choosing the exact, perfect, raw fish to prepare that day. So I was obliged to dig deeper into what that statement really was saying.
As fortunate as many of us are, there are still moments, days, perhaps longer periods when we feel something's off. We can't put our finger on it, really can't name it exactly, so we often come up with what we think is the entree of our discontent. For example, "I hate my work" is an example of what we think is causing us our problems. Another example might be, "I don't have love in my life," or "I wish I had more money," or "I wish I could lose 20 pounds." These are easy targets of discontent, and perhaps the glaringly apparent ones. We believe these things are the main course of our problems, the entire menu of our tribulations. But when we peel back the layers of what sometimes causes us to feel displeasure, we will find the deeper ingredients of the issues. It's usually not only related to work, lack of love or money, or the countless other things we use to announce to the world are the reasons for our restlessness or disgruntlement. It's usually the piling up of all the little things that we don't address (read denial). Maybe it's scary to confront the little flavors of unhappiness. Perhaps we shut out looking at the small print that we don't want to read. We just half smile and say, "thank you for my meal", because it's easier, because it doesn't cause a scene, because we are polite and do not like to appear ungrateful for the food, no matter what. But the meals keep getting worse, and worse, and at some point you just stop eating altogether. You develop life malnutrition, and you eventually die of existence hunger.
All periods of non-peace are made up of much smaller units, the many ingredients tossed in, mixed around, condensed, marinated, perhaps blended, and then served on a silver platter of "meh." I don't recommend that anyone settle for Meh. Meh might be safe, and it might be familiar, but it's kind of like soggy tater tots. Yeah, you know what they are and what they will taste like, so you go for it and eat a few. But you are not at all satisfied with the Mehness of this entering your body, fueling your mind and keeping your heart healthy. Mehness might be safe, but it's boring as hell and has little soul nourishment!
When we become busy, overworked, tired, negligent and complacent, we forget what ingredients we put into our dish of life. We just back hand, hurl in constant stuff, and we forget that one day we will have to eat the result. If we don't take care to vigilantly pick the components that we choose to put into our pot of existence, we end up with a life dish that is inedible.
I'm not one for following a recipe at all, in fact, I can't even cook, I'm just pondering the conscious decisions of what I choose to include on my plate of a lifetime.
This spring, I am dissecting my entrees, reevaluating my ingredients, and hopefully, if I'm lucky and put the work into it, I will recreate an even more beautiful menu, and enjoy an even greater existence meal!
And if I can do this successfully, it is my hope that I will never be an ingredient of anyone's discontent again. In fact, I want to be the grandest, eight-course supper in the lives of those I love.
May you cook and eat well from this one delicious lifetime we have!
Michelle Rose Gilman is an entrepreneur, founded Fusion Academy, a writer, a business mentor and an artist. You can visit her around the web.
www.Fusionacademy.com
www.WeellHeeledWarrior.com
www.FeatherPunkStudio.com
https://www.facebook.com/michelle.gilman