Porridge and Poetry

Even better when enjoyed together.

I’ve been drawn to eating food in bowls this week. I’ve needed comfort and holding a warm bowl is exactly that. I’ve especially found myself wanting porridge. Inspired by Mindy Pelz’s Fast Like a Girl, I’ve been experimenting with compressing my eating hours and have switched to eating my breakfast around 10am. I often have a gap at this time in the day and, after years of mindlessly chomping down a quick bowl of cereal or a slice of toast, making myself a proper breakfast feels like an act of self-care. It can even feel like a sacred coming home to my own belovedness: a way of following the invitation of that gentle inner voice that always encourages me to take the life-giving path, even when it’s not the quickest or easiest choice. Chopping vegetables for a single omelette or boiling water for a solitary poached egg might seem like a waste of time and energy but I’ve learnt it’s exactly the opposite. It’s a reorienting to what matters - doing simple things, one at a time, with care and attention.