Cottage Fruit

My phone alarm woke me up from a sound sleep this morning. Groggy and without my glasses, I saw the display: ‘Minuteman’. What? Patriots’ Day is past (and technically the men on Lexington Green in 1775 hadn't formed a minute company; they were militia). When I woke up enough to put on my glasses, I looked again: ‘Meditation’.

Khare had asked us to bring a small snack. Cottage fruit is my name for cottage cheese mixed with fruit cocktail. We had it several times a week while I was growing up. I often mixed it for supper, in a metal mixing bowl with a thumb ring attached. For our 30th wedding anniversary, we bought our own set of bowls. They have a beauty only objects from a childhood possess.

Khare guided us in ‘mindful eating’. Slow down. Look at the food carefully. Notice texture and color. Smell it. Feel it on your lips (hot or cold, rough or smooth). Take a mouthful and savor it. Let it rest on your tongue.

It brought up nourishing memories of childhood. My children did not grow up with this humble delicacy. Cottage cheese was much more expensive than homemade yogurt made with powdered milk. Nowadays I stock it and remember my mom every time I eat it.

I have not been practicing mindful eating. I shovel things in my mouth, desperate for some quick sensory input: a full mouth. To slow down, really taste the first food of the day filled me with delight. I hope to do more mindful eating soon.