The Zen of Blue Apron
Along with some recent budget initiatives and making healthy food and movement choices for nearly two years now, I’ve been contemplating ways to bring more rhythms to my life ... Daily, weekly, and seasonal rhythms or rituals to feel more centered and present.
You can’t at all tell I’ve been reading Rob Bell!
Because it’s totally the way my life works since I began embracing every single thing I love, the perfect thing just randomly appeared before me.
Some wonderful friends went out of town this weekend, and gifted me their Blue Apron delivery.
I’ve thought about trying one of those meal kit delivery services, but always thought it would be too pricey, and frankly more work than I wanted to do!
Even after the excitement and surprise of opening the box they gifted me - I had no idea it was three different meals! - I still thought it was too pricey for my budget. It’s less than I have allotted for groceries and it would actually provide most of my meals, but it still felt like too big a chunk to commit every week.
But I kept coming back to that surprise.
I don’t know when I have felt such magic as I did opening this big box of wonder. There were perfectly sized packs of ground beef, chicken, shrimp, whole fresh veggies, rice, tortillas, and all manner of everyday and exotic treasures of spices and pastes ...
... Along with beautiful recipe cards that walk you through the alchemy of turning those treasures into an exquisite meal.
As I prepared dinner - something my mother viewed as drudgery and I had always seen as merely a means to an end - I was struck by its centering power as a ritual.
The calming nature of taking the time to be present and enjoy what I was doing, rather than rushing through it and viewing it as laborious.
I was about halfway through when this struck me, so shredding the chicken after I'd slowed down - in awe of the beautiful smoky color and aroma of its chipotle-lime marinade (which I made) and the way it effortlessly pulled apart beneath the two forks in my hands - was a completely different experience from throwing the sliced onions in the pan, feeling hurried and stressed as I wondered whether I’d chosen too small a pan and they were going to be crowded and I was going to ruin the whole meal!
It was a stunning difference.
I could also immediately feel that if I were to invest in this delivery every week, I would be learning and sharpening skills with every meal I prepared ... Becoming more and more artistic as skills become second nature.
As I shredded the chicken, it was clear that this meal was worthy of being laid out in beautiful ways and served in beautiful dishes.
It was worthy of putting my sparkling fizzy drink in stemware.
It was worthy of putting flowers on the table.
It was worthy of putting on a record and making this meal an occasion.
Charlie Worsham's Beginning of Things ... Best record in the house! Go get it.
Not because this particular meal was worthy of that ... But because every meal is worthy of that.
Every moment is worthy of that.
I am worthy of that.
You are worthy of that.
We are all worthy of our full presence.
As I contemplated the power of being present with what I was doing, it occurred to me to shift something else.
When I’m cooking, I tend to clean as I go along.
I just feel much more peaceful when there's order, so I tend to jump from cooking to cleaning every other moment.
This day, I tried something different.
I think what's outside us reflects what's inside us, so l'll always keep things somewhat orderly - stacking dishes in the sink and wiping up spills, for instance - but this day I shifted from cleaning as I go along, to cooking when I’m cooking, and cleaning when I’m cleaning.
Again, my mother saw cleaning as drudgery, so I learned that it was a burden and a chore.
Much like my presence.
I always regarded it as a negative, then, and dreaded it.
This day, after I sat down fully present with every bite of my delicious meal, I stood fully present washing the dishes.
It, too, had the power of a grounding ritual.
The kitchen also ended up looking so much more beautiful than it did when I cleaned as I was going along.
As I walked through these moments, I felt a powerful shift from feeling meal preparation as something I “have“ to do, to feeling it as a sacred, connected time.
I was stunned as I felt the powerful difference between “This is what I have to do to eat dinner” - something heavy with pressure to rush to the end - to “This hour every day is set aside to be fully present in this kitchen and create something beautiful.“
I suddenly felt like I could breathe.
Creating is the word, too ... As I gazed at the beauty on the table before me, I was already dreaming up other dishes to make with what was left over.
The whole evening was a giant sigh of “I. Am. Worthy.“
So!
Given all of these beautiful gifts, and the magical wonder of opening up that box, I’ve decided that committing that chunk is absolutely worth it.
I can’t imagine anything more valuable than healthy meals, endless variety, learning and growing, spiritual practice, and sparking creativity ... All delivered to my door in one big box of wonder and surprise.
These are good, good gifts, and I am grateful.