The Food Though!

A few weeks ago, eleven men embarked on the Journey backpacking trip, which we hosted in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina this year. 

It was epic. Three nights on the trail, days full of physical challenges and quality story work. It might be my favorite expedition.

One of the highlights this year was Ike Dolby's food. He's a master of backpacking food. I am trying to get him to put together a cookbook. While most food at least feels good after a strenuous hike, and tastes better, this was another level of good. In fact, when I look back at photos from the trip, there are none of the food. We were all too engaged in the enjoyment of it–too in the moment–to be distracted by a camera.

For most of my life, food has been utilitarian. I fill my body when it says it wants to be filled. While tasteless food hasn't been a preference, I also haven't had an appreciation for flavors. Neither of my wife's or my families were particularly adventurous or generous with the use of seasonings, spices, or methods of preparation. 

Savoring flavor has been something I have slowly become increasingly aware of as I've grown in age. Eating slowly. Enjoying textures. Don't get me wrong, I'm still down for a casserole or a plate where all the foods are the same color, but when I can get something smaller, perhaps less filling, but intensely flavorful or expertly prepared, I am choosing that more and more. 

I'm also slowly coming around to be more aware of nutritional value of food as well, rather than bulk. Quality over quantity. While a buffet used to be my favorite type of restaurant, healthy and unique edible experiences are starting to win the day. Food that I know will make or keep me healthier is more attractive than it used to be.

In contrast, my twelve-year-olds have no concept for slowly eating and noting layers of flavor and texture. Often asking for thirds, they have no sense of portion control. I'm pretty sure all food tastes about the same to them as they wolf it down. (Unless it's mushrooms. They still won't eat those.) I have to remind myself to be slow to harass them about it. I was the same way, after all. 

The same can be said about life. What might it be like to slow down our consumption of life, and start to appreciate the small, nuanced moments, rather than gorging on a higher quantity of bland fillers. Rather than watching another episode, what if you went out on the back deck and simply watched the sun go down? What if instead of going to the gym to run on a treadmill, what if you drove to a local park and jogged around and noted how many different flowers are in bloom? What if, instead of sending a text message or an email, you sent a postcard instead?

Don't worry- I'm preaching to myself. I have in no way mastered savoring life anymore than I've mastered tasting the intricate notes of a quality scotch or an expertly planned and prepared backpacking meal. But I'm practicing and getting better at it, and noticing my life is better for it.

God didn't create the world as a bland mush to be consumed indiscriminately. He made each of us uniquely to explore and appreciate nuances of his creation and the stories of our lives that we are writing with him. 

How could you take a moment to slow down and notice the flavors today? What are the nuances of life that you might uniquely and particularly notice and enjoy, differently than others?

Cody Buriff, Director of Resource Initiatives