On Nourishment, Rest and Mushrooms for Breakfast.
I will be turning 40 in March, 2023.
Those who love me best have pointed out that I mention this often. I’ve come to understand that this is a fairly common quirk for those of us who suffer from OCD tendencies. To become fixated on numbers. To believe they mean something. To have a numerical goal- a talisman-a marker by which to determine how and if and when I should make changes in my life or embrace what’s always been.
It’s true. I am particularly fixated on turning 40, but not in the foreboding dread kind of way that makes you buy those terrible black napkins from PartyCity and banners that say, “over the hill”. I have died a thousand times over. I’m not afraid of doing it again. What I am afraid of, I think, is living the next 40 with some of the same baggage that weighed me down for the first half.
It’s not a secret that the second half of my thirties was a literal wrecking ball that I’m still, in some ways, tip-toeing around the debris of. While there has been much growth and healing and too much chocolate and wine, I can no longer ignore the effect of the life-altering events of my own personal life at the same time the entire world shut down with a global pandemic. My body has slowly broken down with the literal and figurative weight of it all, and in short, I’m tired of ignoring that.
So, in my forties, I’d love to accomplish some fun things ( like, perhaps I should finally learn how to ride a bike? Audition for a musical? Narrate an audiobook? Finally publish something in the trade market not just here on the interwebs?) but there are things I know I NEED to get my shit together on or my second Act won’t be how I want to show up in the world.
I am desperate for a rhythm of rest- of true rest that nourishes without shame or proof of, “productivity.” In my forties, I want to wake up with the understanding that no one’s deadlines exist but my own. I took a nap today. Or, I tried to take a nap today but my anxious heart about laying down in the middle of the day wouldn’t have it. Restful? I would say, no. This must stop. Working from home is its own animal which means often I will chauffeur our children around, throw a load of laundry in, wipe a countertop, and then it’s all of a sudden time to play cabbie again until dinner time and I’m left writing like a mad woman to finish contracts with DEADLINES. Deadlines that are always, always tomorrow.
And I feel such shame about that. For not being able to do all the things I have written on an arbitrary list that no one is checking but me. By the time the end of the week comes, I feel as though I didn’t, “earn” a Sabbath, so to speak. The hamster wheel keeps cycling, but my legs are no longer the ones propelling me. I’m just getting tumbled. I want off.
I have always been self-deprecating in my humor concerning my ability to be long-suffering. I still can’t watch Encanto because Luisa hits too close to home. I have stopped being able to carry the weight I used to. My body refuses. So, I will do my best to honor its protest.
I want to learn what it means to rest. Because that seems to be how you live. I’m leaning back into the words nurture and nourish as the anchors they’ve always been to ground me. If you’ve also struggled with how to rest (even when you feel like you’ve done nothing to “deserve” it, I’d love to hear from you.
I always include a list at the bottom of things that I am loving. I’ve never wanted to borrow from Barbara Brown Taylor the phrase, “What’s Saving My Life Right Now” even though it felt super fitting; until now. From here forward I’m going to refer to the list as, “Weekly Sustanence”. It’s the things big and small, that have sustained me this week. I love the culinary nod- and the contemplative one, too. I hope you do, too.
WEEKLY SUSTANENCE
I’ve been listening to, “How To Do Nothing” and “Sacred Rhythms” on Audible. It’s been a beautiful addition to my practice of seeking rest. Also, this episode from Emily P. Freeman’s podcast: https://emilypfreeman.com/podcast/251/
I’ll be working through the reading list my friend Esther provides in her newsletter here on Sabbath. You should check it out here: https://myemail.constantcontact.com/24-6.html?soid=1132092817204&aid=piejIyTmzLk
Midnights (3 am Edition). Whatever. You knew it was coming.
I return to this recipe again and again, because there are few things I’ve found to be equally as nourishing as they are satisfying. Coconut milk, tumeric, garlic and ginger and crispy chickpeas. I eat it once a week all winter long.
Trumpet Mushroom Scallops with a Crispy Egg is my new, go-to breakfast. Here’s how to make it:
Heat 1/2 oil of your choice with 1/2 unsalted butter ( you can just use oil if dairy’s not your thing) over low heat.
Cut trumpet mushrooms into 1/2 an inch rounds and lay them down in the pan. Use aromatics of your choice to scatter around the mushrooms as they cook. ( I use one whole garlic clove so it’s easy for me to take out later, and bundle a stalk of rosemary and thyme together. I also use sea salt and freshly cracked pepper).
Sautee mushrooms for 2-3 minutes on side, or until golden brown. Flip them and do the same on the other side.
Plate the mushroom “scallops” and crack an egg directly into the same pan. Cook to desired doneness and top the mushrooms with the egg, a few of the now toasty thyme and rosemary leaves and a sprinkling of grated cheese ( I prefer gruyere and/parmesan).
This also would make a beautiful lunch over arugula, dressed with just a little lemon juice and olive oil.