The Only Real Thing To Leave In The World...

I'm cleaning my desk. It's like an archeological dig. Very interesting. Surprising. And just now, I came across a yellowed newspaper clipping about the life and home of MFK Fisher.  What a sensuous, fully alive food writer she was!  Oh---she lived a juicy life! In this detritus of my life---I find my life, my passion. I'm struck smack dab between the eyes---realizing once again that we DO know what we are drawn to! What calls our name. (Especially if we let go...and let it come!) I remember the very first time I read MFK Fisher. Maybe in my early 30's. Oh---I wanted to eat it up. Inhale it. Drink it! And now---here she is again. Just lying here...even after death, her legacy lights fires in me. Causes my senses to awaken and soul to sing.

Here are MFK Fisher's words, circled by me...

"The only real thing to leave in the world is one's spirit...the leavings of me, murking up the atmosphere, smogging the air, sprinkling a sort of mist over things so perhaps they twinkle a bit."


And there it is. The big bold "Yes"  I'd scrawled next to it! I remember thinking it would make a great memorial quote---from me, after I'd passed on! Funny---I thought I just wanted to share her wisdom when I sat down and began to type. Now, I'm feeling the draw to more...maybe even to visit her home, in Northern California...and deepen into her writings, including "A Welcoming Life." The connection to my own life of juicy immersion and adventure rises in me---including the surprising call to Italy last fall, to create an adventure with my new Italian friend, Alberto. Together, with our eyes twinkling, we created a rooftop communal experience, "The International Cooking Game", which brought people together, across cultures through---you guessed it---the love of food! There, in Rome (in the experience I wanted to call "Eat Play Love" but was assured wouldn't translate to the target audience)---we played, laughed and tasted  the surprising fullness of life....as the sun set and the full moon rose.

 First, I'll finish cleaning---then I'll put my feet up, grab a cuppa tea, a juicy piece of fruit---and deepen back into the article, the life that was MFK Fisher, and the Mystery that is twinkling in me.

You Have A Vacation Face!

One face. One reflection.

Yesterday we drove to Vail to meet dear, dear friends for dinner. Minnesotans, they had a sweet skiing week in the mountains. Busy Coloradans who love them---we drove three hours each way to eat, drink, laugh, be together. After the tastiest meal at Campo Fiore (5 thumbs up!) we slipped into a little market.

Grinning from behind the cash register,  the lanky young clerk asked me, "How's your vacation?" Oh, I demurred, I'm not on vacation, she is! He wouldn't let up. "No--your face looks like you're on vacation!" Quickly I said, "Oh, that must be because I was in Florida last week and have a bit of a tan." Again, the insistence. "No," he said. "It's not that. It's your smile. You Have A Vacation Face!"

Wow. I know I live in joy. I know I look for the divine in everything. But wow. Here was my reflection. That I, the local person who had driven 3 hours---and was about to drive another 3 hours home---was the one with the "Vacation Face." There it is! Evidence... that we all have this option, don't we? Anytime. Anyday. Anywhere. Thank you, Argentian Jose---who is known as 'Pancho'---for helping me see this truth, on a snowy winter night in the mountains.