Black Coffee

I just developed a taste for clear black coffee. I love it piping hot with my banana bread. Suddenly I need to vacuum the 17 years of dust behind the bookshelf as I simmer my lamb stew. The odors of warm vacuum cleaner dust and dog and hair are duking it out with the stew. I open my window inviting in the scent of leaves.

I see my life and other people through the lens of food. Not that I am always eating but my intuition is in my gut which is also the location of my wound, my window to the world. This is why I often wear a simple white restaurant apron all day. It's a curtain on my 'window' because so much comes streaming in. The wound and the gift are in same spot and they both need to be nurtured and protected.