Could it really, truly be that we have everything we need right here, right now? If we look? If we are open to it? If we trust that we do? It’s a philosophy that I’ve been experimenting with for the last few years. And if you’ve been sloshing along with this blog for awhile, you may recall the incident last year when I put this claim to the test. My friend, Sandi and I, had little more than a day to erect a storage space in her back yard—with no pre-existing foundation. (If you want the back story, check out Moving to Maui #6 (“I Have Everything I Need Right Here, Right Now.”)

Last night, by comical comparison, the phrase applied to my dinner. Ordinarily I do quite well feeding myself, but last night I got caught with my plate empty. I’d had a long, soulful day. Hadn’t officially dressed although what I was wearing would pass for “clothes” in Hawai’i. It was almost seven o’clock and my hunger level had surpassed the salad solution about an hour back. Yet, not having gone to the market as planned, salad was all I had on hand. Well, that and popcorn. But I so wanted something satisfying, healthy and yummy! If wasn’t a gluten-free, mostly organic, non-processed kind of gal, I could have created a feast from the unopened frozen pork a previous condo guest had left behind, accompanied by Rice-a-Roni. Polished off with a Krusteaz cinnamon crumb cake! Expiration date unknown.



I surfed the web looking for nearby take-out and came up empty. It seemed the fish tacos I was craving were all ensconced on a platter that looked like it would feed three of me. Besides, the honest truth was I just didn’t want to go out. You know the feeling? I knew I could, but not one inner self was voting in its favor. I’d already looked in pantry twice, the frig four times, and the freezer three—but on the last frosty pass, I’d noted half a bottle of healthy “tomato and basil” spaghetti sauce there. (Oh, I’d left that there myself three months ago.) A hearty Italian meal suddenly sounded so good! Earlier, I’d found spaghetti noodles, but they were, of course, powerfully glutenized. The phrase “I have everything I need right here, right now” suddenly came to mind. Why not look in that pantry one more time? There I spotted a zip lock with assorted pastas in it and a familiar blue bag caught my eye. Could it be? Trader Joe’s brown rice noodles? It was! (No doubt I’d left them too on a previous visit.) My excitement was momentarily stalled by the thought of what else might be in that bag besides the brown rice fusilli. But nothing was moving. Oh wait! Didn’t I see parmesan in the freezer too? (Also previously mine.) I began to boil, thaw and dance. Now the salad was inspired: romaine mingled with kale, topped by jicama, avocado, fig and roasted pecans.

It tasted fantastic! No freezer burn, no stale aftertaste, no culinary remorse. I had to take a picture for my blog! (This is the madness of blogging, friends.) I could barely wait to eat my happy meal, but wanted a reminder of yet another time when it was true: I had everything I needed right here, right now. And the fact that I had been the source of my own provision simply whipped up a helping of delight for dessert.


The Journey Is Always Better Together,
Maridel