said it didn't taste the same. I said I prepared it the way I
always do and he said something to the affect of it not being prepared with as much love and compassion as last time.
And I said yes I can see how that would be because I was annoyed with something when I cooked it.
The way people connect to us through the food we share is what I believe to be the touch of our spirits.
As Autumn is starting to share it's beauty, I recall some of the favorite things my mom made from childhood like a cream cheese and dried beef dip she made for Christmas Eve every year and how
I don't think to make it any other time of the year.
And I still remember the year my grandmother made salt water taffy with us.
I was about 7 or 8 and if I close my eyes and breath for a while, I can still feel how sticky
it was and how stiff it became as we pulled and pulled and pulled on it.
I remember how she made pretzel and peanut clusters covered in white chocolate and how
deliciously salty and sweet they were And I still remember the touch of her hands…so soft
and smooth. These memories touch my heart every time I share them.
A few days ago I was amazed to see my older baby doggie stay without complaint
as the younger baby doggie lay down with their rumps touching. Even as I share this
with you Lacy lays just close enough to have me touch her with my foot.
A hug from my son or daughter, a kiss from my husband all touch me in different ways.
And even when I feel 'touched out' and have no desire for another person to put their
hands near me, I am still touched by the air swirling around me, the yarn running through my
fingers as I knit, the paper as I write or draw and the clothes draping my body.
What a precious gift it is to touch and be touched.
Today, I honor my body's ability to touch and be touched by life in so many different ways.
And I invite you to allow yourself to be touched by life and honor it as a precious gift. You
may even want to try this hugging meditation I did with my son. Blessings!