A very strange thing happens to me every time I treat myself to a delicious and icy sorbet dessert from Milk & Honey in downtown Chattanooga (setting aside the oddity that I am more and more preferring their sorbets rather than their gelatoes, as I have never been a fruity dessert sort of gal).

Their sorbets are delicate, complex, and so cold. Refreshing and not in the least overly-sweet. Colorful and vibrant thanks only to the raw ingredients. The last few times I have indulged in a craving, I have strolled slowly out of the store to my car, nibbling in small, little, tentative bites, closing my eyes to allow each unique flavor coat my tongue and fire off energy to my brain.

All wonderful, yes. Good.

What is strange then, you ask, about this admittedly hedonistic and decidedly non-paleo delight?

As I taste and enjoy these treats, I find myself needing to shut off the radio, as it is too distracting, and my eyes drift downwards into my cup, my spoon swirling slowly yet decisively through the sorbet, and I realize that these are so good, SO complex and layered, that I am all of a sudden 100%, utterly, and totally focused on my food.

This is beyond a sense of, “Wow. This tastes amazing.” No, this is full attention to the flavors and the sugars as they roll over my tongue. A recent purchase consisted of these three gems: Salted Pink Grapefruit. Triple Melon Basil. Malbec and Cherries. Each a perfect segue into the next, with the heaviest and most decadent saved for last, so as not to overpower the others. I gazed down into my cup, watching as each little bite made the whole colorful mess disappear. I finished, and swallowed slowly, and closed my eyes at the mix of all three, lingering on my tastebuds. I exhaled slowly, the last of the icy cold leaving my mouth as my lips warmed back up, flushed with the remembrance of sugar.

I had just taken a full 10 minutes to do NOTHING else but focus on something. Some one single thing. Something maybe not very important, but something nonetheless.

As you might surmise, this is not a post about ice cream.

Ian and I separated about a month ago.

This…this, ungodly awful, horrible, THING. It is big. Really big. So big and huge and disgusting that it is all I can do many days to keep myself from clamping my hands over my ears and burying myself deep back into the covers of my bed. My lonely bed, in my lonely house.

I can’t and don’t want to talk too much here about it all, as I have talked enough about it for five lifetimes already and I don’t know what else I have left to get out.

I will say this: if something as simple, and innocuous, and wonderfully, blessedly ordinary as a spectacular cup of artisan sorbet is enough to pull me back to myself; to rip my heart away from the hurt and the pain and the whirl of learning how to be me again without a second half; to point me inward to where I can only possibly set my mind on one little thing at a time, enjoy that thing, and then breathe deep at the finish of it like I am waking up from a cool nap, well then…

…maybe, just maybe…I can open my eyes wide and find gifts such as these everywhere around me…gifts that can push me forward, propelling me beyond and through this THING to whatever is next…



About ahoytheship

A true-blood Mainer living and loving life through CrossFit, food, and fiber arts.
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2 Responses to ::focus::

  1. Marta says:

    Just sending love and hugs and healing thoughts and prayers. 😦
    Marta and Wally (and Jacob)

  2. So sorry to hear about this Lissa! Sending good thoughts your way. You’ve got friends in Philly, but you already know that! Best wishes as you move into this next stage.

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