Finding Abundance - Even in Collard Greens

Only recently have I woken up to the fact that I still have the child's habit of seeing the world in zero-sum terms. Win/lose, gain/loss, give/receive. Years of dieting have probably made it worse. With ample time unaccounted for these days, I sometimes drift off into tallying mode. Given that most human beings are far better at remembering the negative than the positive, and given that I am more human than most, this tallying activity is not a productive one. I count up dollars earned and dollars spent this month and come up...negative. I count up friends made and friends lost for various reasons in recent years and come up...negative. I count up favors extended and favors returned and come up...well, you get the picture.


Do elephants remember more of the bad stuff, too?

Writing this, I look out the window and see my children playing in the yard. They are clearly having a blast wading through the brush-pile, squelching through our fern-filled swamp, and clambering over the boulders that line the yard. My brain fills with images of impossible-to-get-out grass stains, new tennis shoes filled with mud, pants ripped at the knee and seat. As if reading my mind, the girls have now thrown their shoes and clothes into a heap. I keep quiet, wanting them to enjoy their freedom from self-consciousness as long as they can. But already I imagine Lyme-disease-carrying ticks, swollen mosquito bites keeping them awake at night, bloody scratches that are sure to deplete our Bandaid stockpile. This very well may be my last summer home full-time with them. How can I focus on the abundance and not the lack?

Tree-climbing in a long skirt on the last day of school...with me cringing.

This is a tough practice. And a moment ago, as if to taunt me even further, all my words just disappeared from the computer screen when I swiped at the touchpad to get rid of a tiny bug. Fortunately, my first reaction to hit control-Z was the right one and all was restored. What about the times when I first react wrongly? Yelling at the kids, who in every case, are just being kids after all. Lashing out at my spouse, who cannot be held responsible for the frustrations that plague my heart. Silently fuming at other people, who are only acting within their own limitations, just as I act within mine. Regret and apologies pile up like dirty laundry.



Oh, to have the perspective of a tree...

I come back to the idea I've been pondering lately of seeking grace by giving constant thanks. Stopping time for a moment to notice the miracle of a bean seed breaking through moist soil. My daughter's once-chubby legs, now growing long and (so soon?) looking rather shapely in last year's shorts. Humidity rising from the grass after morning's rain. Birdsong and breezy-leafy-treesong. Unguarded smiles when the girls see that I am not going to yell at them for playing naked in the yard or chase them down with sunblock. Not this time, anyway. And thoughts of our well-stocked pantry, freezer full of delicious, organic, local strawberries, and fridge bursting with bags of local collards, kale and salad greens. So much abundance, everywhere I look. And where there is real lack, real sorrow, a reminder to have faith that everything happens according to Plan.

Wild strawberries growing behind the house.

Tiny roses at the edge of a hiking trail.

Tonight I will begin dinner early by boiling a pot of collard greens. Their bitter, rotting smell will permeate the house, even with windows open. As the dinner hour approaches, I will chop garlic and squeeze lemon juice, pour out a little olive oil and saute those greens, replacing the nasty aroma with a luscious one. And everyone, even my super-picky child and her skeptical daddy, will ask for seconds. Fortunately I will have cooked two bunches' worth. An abundance of one of the healthiest vegetables around.

I will serve the collards with an old stand-by - Tomato Sauce with Beans Over Cheesy Polenta. It is a 15-minute dinner solution that for our family, means both sustenance and balm from whatever the day has wrought.

Cheesy Polenta
Bring 6 cups water to boil. Slowly whisk in 2 cups of polenta and a healthy pinch of salt. Cover and turn heat down to a low simmer. After about 10 minutes, remove from heat and stir in 4 T butter and 1 cup shredded Parmesan cheese. Check for salt.

Tomato Sauce with Beans
In a medium-sized saucepot, heat up a jar of your favorite marinara sauce or a 32-oz can of Italian-style chopped tomatoes, along with a 15-oz can of rinsed black, kidney or cannelini beans. If you like, stir in a pinch of red chili flakes. Grate some extra Parmesan cheese to serve on top.
Serve the sauce on top of the polenta, alongside a mess'o'greens.