It’s unusual for me to recognize, in the moment, at least, that I am savoring something.
When I’m hungry enough to appreciate something simple, I’m often eating so fast that I don’t really notice what I should be thankful for.
“What I should be thankful for.”
That’s the story of my life.
Out on the route the other day, my peanut butter sandwich was something to savor.
I eat on the run.
I don’t even park to open my lunch box.
It’s a low-speed juggling act, reaching for the banana and sandwich that I know is waiting for me somewhere behind me, opening it all one-handed while I drive…..while I move towards the next mailbox.
I don’t stop.
I don’t stop….and, somehow, my route is still at least a 10 hour day by the time I finish.
Given all that, it would take a miracle to be in the moment long enough to savor a warm peanut butter sandwich.
I get miracles daily.
The other day, I noticed.
What does it take to make me notice how good a sandwich can be?
Every warm and chewy one-handed bite was delicious.
Really delicious….not just “tolerably edible”….really, really delicious.
Maybe it was just being really….really….hungry.
It was good enough to make me wonder why this sandwich, exactly like all the other sandwiches I’d eaten, unaware, was so different.
It was the same…but… better… because I noticed it.
What the heck? It was just a sandwich.
What do I need to “lack” before I have enough space in my head to notice and appreciate what I have?
Gratitude is what it’s all about.
Every thought….every molecule….should be screaming for a chance to offer up some thanks for each breath and thought we’re given.
Gratitude for what is and for what could be.
And….gratitude for what we don’t notice.
Why was that sandwich so good?
Was it all just my stomach talking?