Life-Changing Nachos

Two semesters ago, I took a class on stress. A week of our studies focused on mindfulness as a stress-reduction technique.

I think the fundamentals of mindfulness are very beneficial. The basic idea is that you are aware of the present - of what is going on around you right now instead of worrying about the past, the future, or other things. 

In A Mindful-Based Stress Reduction Workbook by Bob Stahl and Elisha Goldstein, we're encouraged to practice mindfulness by eating a raisin. A raisin is something you usually pop into your mouth and consume without much thought (if you're even willing to eat raisins at all). To eat a raisin mindfully, you look at it, admire the texture, think about how it used to be a grape, and place it on your tongue. Then you pay close attention to what it does in your mouth. What does it feel like? How does it taste? How does it break apart as you chew?

I admit, it sounds silly.

It is silly.

But I also admit, I've never really given a raisin much credit or thought.

The point is, we let a lot pass us by. It might be a raisin or it might be the growing years of our children. Think about driving in a car. How often do we arrive at our destinations without remembering the trip there? We are always moving forward, and we don't realize what is around us because we're distracted or stressed or anticipating a future event.

Although I'm not perfectly practicing mindfulness in my daily life, I'm trying to get better at it. Inspired by the raisin exercise I never did (raisins... blech!), I've been trying to be mindful with my eating. I'm a total glutton. I can put down three donuts with no questions asked (yes, I've read the book). I might not be willing to do the raisin thing, but I'll happily practice mindfulness with a single donut, especially if it keeps me from eating three!

Yesterday, I ate a plate of nachos consisting of a layer of chips topped with baked beans and BBQ beef. Then there was a delicate coating of melted cheddar cheese, a sprinkling of corn and tomatoes, and a drizzle of sour cream.

I decided to focus and be with my nachos.

Mindful.

Mindful with nachos.

I thought about the tortilla chips and the BBQ beef - both were leftovers from a weekend camp out at my in-laws' house. It's a tradition that once every summer, the entire family camps in their backyard. My mother-in-law is infamous for always making too much food. She never wants anyone to go without! A meal made by my mother-in-law is a meal that feeds us for days. It's because she loves us and wants to make sure we're taken care of.

Then I thought about the baked beans. They were leftover from my brother-in-law's wedding luncheon in July (since we were leaving on vacation the day after the wedding, I threw them in the freezer). I had those beans on my nachos because someone got married. Someone made a commitment to another person. Someone took a life-altering step.

Then I thought about the corn. It was grown by my husband's grandpa who operated a produce company for over 40 years. Though the company is no longer operating, Scotty's grandpa still farms some of his land for tax purposes. Each summer, Scotty and I spend hours preparing corn to freeze. We cut the kernels off the cob with our own hands. Each summer, we think it's going to be the last. The corn represents a life's work. Seeds planted, stalks watered, and cobs harvested. It is so much more than just corn.

Then I thought about the tomatoes and how someone planted the seeds so I could transplant starts into my own garden. I thought about the water, the soil, and the sun that helped me keep those tomatoes alive. I tended them from infancy in my own yard so they could someday top my pile of nachos.

Until yesterday, I'd never really thought about how many lives are involved in something as simple as a plate of nachos. My nachos were made possible through the love, the dedication, and the hard work of many people. No wonder we pray and thank God for our food and the hands that prepared it.

I was mindful, and my mind was blown!