Kitchen Goddess

(Photo credit Joanne Tucker)

(Photo credit JoAnne Tucker)

I was at the very end of making a batch of Indian Chai – a very spicy and sensual experience – when I got hungry (after all, it’s noon and I didn’t have breakfast). So put some leftovers in a pot to warm on the stove and as my rice and curry are beginning to hiss, my timer goes off and I hurry to strain my tea brew quickly so that it doesn’t turn the batch into a bitter mess. Somehow I am wearing a white top (why do I insist on cooking in white clothing?) and my straining system is a bit haphazard, so streams of dark, beautiful red brown chai are running down my arm, dangerously close to my sleeves. Meanwhile, my lunch is bubbling away and I reach to turn down the heat and transfer it to my lovely chipped bowl from Hospice Thrift. The tiny kitchen is covered in almost every dish and pot, the cupboards are all open, the countertops are wet and dirty, my sleeve is stained and I take a bite of deliciously spiced food and feel totally blissed out.

This is Life…it’s messy and beautiful. It smells like ginger and cardamom and curry. It feels real in my body…my bare feet on the cold tile floor. It’s full of emotion, pleasure and a pulsing heart. It doesn’t measure up to my picture of perfection, but it’s way more exciting than a clean kitchen. She – Life – Love will not be contained. She is wild and free…

Thank you, Goddess, for showing up for me and as me every single day, whether I acknowledge you or not.

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