THE INKWELL SOUL

Tag: #awareness

  • My New Life: Where Everything Is A Carbohydrate Conspiracy

    “Eat to live, not live to eat.” That’s the new mantra now. It sounds so noble, doesn’t it? Like a line from a black – and – white movie starring someone with impossibly perfect cheekbones. The reality? It feels more like a full-time, unpaid detective job where the criminal is Sugar, and the scene of the crime is… well, Everything!

    I used to think of a grocery store trip as a casual outing, maybe a chance to snag a free sample. Now, it’s a terrifying, fluorescent-lit labyrinth. My hand hovers over a box of something innocent-looking, say, “All Natural, Gluten-Free, Artisan Crackers.” I flip it over, my eyes scanning the ingredients list like a seasoned bomb disposal expert. Suddenly, “Dextrose,” “Maltodextrin,” or some other sneaky ‘ose’ pops up, and my internal alarm blares: Carbohydrate!!! It’s everywhere! It’s in the spice rub, the salad dressing, the canned tuna, and probably the air freshener in aisle seven!

    I’m exhausted. My brain, once used for contemplating things like world peace or what show to binge-watch, is now solely dedicated to calculating net carbs and wondering if a single radish is going to throw me into a sugar-fueled freefall.

    The little things – oh, the glorious, spoiled – society little things – are ghosts of a past life. The siren song of a Dairy Queen drive-thru on a hot day? Might as well be a viper pit. My beloved mid-afternoon Scooter’s coffee? That mocha latte is basically a milkshake in disguise, a sugary betrayal. Now, my “splurge” is a meticulously sourced, grass-fed ribeye, or maybe – if I’m feeling really wild – a second handful of raw spinach. Yay! I’ve become the person who brings her own unseasoned, unadulterated food to every social gathering. I look at a slice of beautiful, fluffy artisan bread and feel the same way a vampire must look at a clove of garlic. Tragic.

    And wine? Forget the comforting, contemplative glass of Riesling after a long taxing day of, you know, battling cancer. Now, my unwinding ritual involves sitting quietly, perhaps communing with the universe in a sauna until I’m a puddle of detoxified determination: Who needs a Moscato when you have the quiet hum of an infrared heater? (Okay, I still want the Moscato, but my mitochondria have veto power now.)

    It’s frustrating. It’s ridiculous. It’s a culinary prison guarded by nutrition facts. But then, as I chew thoughtfully on a stalk of celery – a vegetable I once relegated to the “dip delivery vehicle” category – a wave of something profound washes over me.

    Gratitude

    Every single label I read, every beloved indulgence I refuse, every hour I spend in stillness, is a choice. It’s purposeful, deliberate, and sometimes a humorous act of war – a fight not just for more time, but with more quality, more awareness, and a hell of a lot more raw vegetables. I no longer live to eat. I eat to live. And honestly, that’s the sweetest thing left on the menu.

  • The Silent Watcher

    The cacophony of the mind is a relentless orchestra, a symphony of anxieties, judgments, and echoes of past hurts. It’s a crowded marketplace where every vendor screams for attention, each offering a different version of “you”. And in that clamor, it’s easy to mistake the noise for your very essence.

    Eckhart Tolle’s words, a quiet whisper in the storm, offer a different perspective: “Be the silent watcher of your thoughts and behavior. You are beneath the thinker. You are the stillness beneath the mental noise. You are the love and joy beneath the pain.”

    It’s a radical shift, a call to step outside the swirling vortex of our mental narratives. To become the observer, not the protagonist, of our internal drama. To recognize that the thoughts that parade through our minds, the behaviors we enact, are not us, but rather fleeting phenomena, like clouds drifting across the vast expanse of the sky.

    This “silent watcher” is not a judge, nor a critic. It is the awareness that simply is, the still point in the turning world. It is the space between the thoughts, the pause before the reaction. It is the quiet understanding that beneath the surface turbulence, there lies a deep, unwavering stillness.

    The pain, the heartbreak, the sense of betrayal – these are real, and they demand to be felt. But they are not the totality of your being. They are temporary visitors, storms that rage and then subside, leaving behind a clearer sky. Beneath the pain, like a hidden spring, flows the pure, unadulterated essence of love and joy.

    To live by this is not a passive acceptance of suffering. It is an active practice of dis-identification. It’s the daily, sometimes hourly, reminder that you are not your thoughts, your emotions, your circumstances. You are the vast, silent awareness that holds them all.

    Imagine yourself as a clear, still pond. The thoughts and emotions are ripples on the surface, disturbing the calm. But the pond itself remains unchanged, deep and serene. The practice is to return to that stillness, to anchor yourself in the awareness that underlies the ever-changing surface.

    This is not a quick fix, nor a magic formula. It is a journey of self-discovery, a gradual unveiling of the truth that lies within. It’s a process of learning to recognize the mental noise for what it is – just noise – and to find the quiet strength that resides in the stillness beneath.

    With each moment of conscious awareness, with each breath taken in the present, you reclaim your power. You step out of the illusion of the mind and into the reality of your being. You discover that you are not defined by the pain, but by the love and joy that reside within, waiting to be rediscovered. You are the silent watcher, the stillness, the love, and the joy. And that, is your true enduring self.