Zoos, Toast and The Eradication Of Shoulds
I have always felt conflicted about the existence of zoos. Wild animals, confined to cages to be gawked at by voyeuristic humans sounds like a horror movie. And at the same time- I love them. Though I would never qualify myself as an animal lover ( ask my sister), there is something about seeing with my own eyes the vast array of species, directing my attention to those we have lost to extinction, and bearing witness to behavior not often observed by humans that feels, well, holy. There is something sacred in the observance. While there, I cannot help but marvel and wonder. It’s one of the few times I feel a certain edge of certainty about the divine. There must be a god if there are rhinos. Who could have thought up rhinos?
Which is why I dragged my exhausted children (from only two days of school, mind you) to one of my favorite places in the universe yesterday: the Bronx Zoo. In hindsight, it was probably poor planning. They whined nearly the entire time. I spent more money on Dippin Dots than I would ever admit out loud. Not a single one of them gasped like I had hoped when we flew by Patty the Elephant on the Monorail. Not like I did, at least (elephants are my favorite). But visiting the Bronx Zoo is more than just the event; at least, for me. It’s also a formative location- it was my Dad’s favorite place to go in my childhood and one R and I visited regularly before having children- always stopping first for diner pancakes. And at least the Bronx Zoo makes it a point to feature animals rescued who would be unable to exist in the wild- it makes my conflicted heart rest just a little.
Since we’re on the topic of conflicting thoughts- can we talk about bread for a moment? I’m turning 40 this coming year which means I’m a direct descendant from the Atkins generation. My mouth forms a puckered, “tsk” sound whenever anyone reaches for a bagel. I make zucchini noodles, even though I hate them. HATE them. But bread is having a revolutionary moment in my life, and it’s in the form of toast. Firstly, may I address that I go through seasons of feeling very, meat-averse. I chose both of those phrases intentionally: seasons and meat-averse. There are stretches of a month or two, every few months, where to put it simply, I’m just not really into meat. This means, I eat a lot of fruits and vegetables and grains and nuts and seeds: but with my prior conditioning, bread has been out of the question. Which is kind of absurd. But also, fair, as a lot of flour doesn’t always sit well with me. So I began buying two loaves of really good, locally made bread that I adore and that makes me feel good: one, dark pumpernickel and one funky sourdough- and making what I’m simply calling, “toasts”, for literally any meal. Things I’ve enjoyed on, “toasts”:
*Smashed avocado, lemon juice, olive oil, Aleppo pepper, pickled red onion and fresh cilantro (rub toast with a garlic clove before piling on mixture)
*A smear of cream cheese, Everything but the Bagel Sesame Seasoning Blend from TJ’s, Smoked Salmon, fresh dill and a slice of cucumber
*A melty brie with raspberry jam
*A smear of goat cheese, caramelized onions, fresh fig slices, basil leaves
Can we reclaim bread? Is it ok? I’m going to try.
Lastly, I noticed, particularly this week when my kids went back to school and I had time to think, that my concept of, “should” has been paralyzing. Coming from a background of certain religious conditioning, “should” ran my life. Quite literally. I knew what I should wear, how I should act, what I should say, what I should do, etc. But that overwhelming sense of, “should” has the power to render me completely incapable of doing ANYTHING. Which certainly wasn’t the goal. So I’ve erased it. I’ve stopped my line of thinking in it’s tracks as soon as it becomes a thought.
I’ve changed: I SHOULD be working right now to:
I want to work right now so that I will have time to give my undivided attention to my children when they get home.
OR
My body is telling me that working right now is not the best choice. I will (take a shower, a walk, make a cup of coffee) and revisit afterward.
I’ve changed: I SHOULD clean the kitchen to:
I want to clean the kitchen, because a clean and organized space gives me peace and a freedom to be creative in a way that gives me joy.
OR
I don’t want to f-ing clean the kitchen right now and I will accept the consequences of having to do it later.
Eradicating, “should,” has become the goal to close out 2022.
Should I go to zoos?
Eat toast?
Clean the kitchen?
“Should” gives the decision to some other entity. One that is not me. I’m taking back my choices and placing, “should” in the bin.
What are you tossing in preparation for the new year?
My Weekly Anchors ( Changed from, What’s Saving My Life as it is too often used, and, anchors make visual sense to me:)
I did it. After lamenting the end of the Throne of Glass series, I picked up the next Sarah Maas series, Cresent City, and all I can say is: HOW DOES SHE DO IT???? And, see ya next spring when I emerge.
I binged Extraordinary Attorney Woo on Netflix and wish I could start it all over again, it was that smart and whimsical. Also- I love subtitles because it forces me to do only one thing at a time in order to follow the storyline. It’s been a great re-training to focus on one task.
The Chinese mid-autumn festival is this coming weekend and I’ve had this in my amazon cart for weeks. Should I pull the trigger?
While I am desperately sad that my swimming season is coming to an end it’s my favorite season to buy clothes. I need this, this and this like, yesterday.
Sometimes I need a change of scenery in order to work- Scout’s Coffee Bar in High Bridge, NJ has been my go-to spot this week. It doesn’t hurt that I’m obsessed with their London Fog Latte and sweet potato and feta scone. Where should I head this week?
Alright friends, I hope you’re facing down the fall with open arms. I don’t judge anyone’s embracing of seasonal choices, but for myself- I view September as the hybrid of summer/fall that it is and try not to decorate or pumpkin anything until October. I might even try to make it to the beach one last time. I’ve often been overruled by my fall-loving family, however, and I will admit that a PSL may or may not have snuck into my life already, once or twice.
Whatever you do- and whether or not you have to eat your words, I hope you make them delicious.