The grace of going away is that your eyes are refreshed for when you return. What you see once in your daily, then see again and again, gains a transparency, loses its edges, so that after a time it is no longer visible at all. This is to be expected: our senses are used to protect us and to bring us to food, and stimuli which have been identified, processed and cataloged need no longer occupy the mind, and are let go. Background noise that needn't be listened to.
Like bird songs or traffic drone, consistently cold or hot weather, certain comments or behaviors of a life partner, tastes either pleasant or displeasing… unless we leave these things either geographically or psychologically, the automated life sets in, the sharpness and clarity of things is rubbed out of the picture, and a general bland can set in.
So I am grateful to the month of travel we gave ourselves, to step away for a time, see a lot of newness, and forget a lot of sameness that had cluttered up the mind.
One of the more striking differences between a few weeks in India and a few days back in the States is the abundance — I might suggest overabundance — of food. It is not that food was unavailable in southern India, either. In that semi-tropical climate, there were fruits, vegetables, grains and pulses in quantity and good quality. The cost per meal for an American tourist was from $1 for a modest meal to $2 or $2.50 for a feast.
But even the feast was not heavy, was not "rich" food according to our interesting choice of adjectives, and the quantities were far less than what is generally served in the restaurants or kitchens of New England. Back at home, I find food everywhere, at the fingertips, from the overly large portions (and price tags) of restaurant fare to the snack machines to the trays of goodies to the well-stocked refrigerators. And there is often less physical exertion here than there is in an Indian's daily life, with modern conveyances whisking us from one chair to another in relaxed comfort.
Remarkable to feel it so clearly in the body, after such a short time away, to feel the pressure of food around, like the pressure of beggars at the famous Indian pilgrimages, here, here, here!
So I have to choose a smaller bowl and smaller cup for my breakfast table, pack a lunch or share a lunch if I buy one (is that crazy, or what?), take a single tea mid-afternoon to soften the hunger until dinner time, and keep light ingredients around for my nightly repast. What rigidity to impose, simply to protect an appropriate diet!
You needn't hold it all yourself, of course, if you live in community. The Aurovilleans made common meals, cycling cooking and cleaning among the community members, and so were required to hold good health as a responsibility once each week… the other days they could ride, not drive. Another fringe benefit of community!
Now… what for breakfast?
