Toast and Marmite

Sometimes I have so many ideas in my head, not knowing which one to write about. And sometimes no idea comes. This evening I was somewhere in the middle - feeling the urge to write but not really knowing what about. I closed my eyes for a minute and imagined a piece of toast with Marmite (a kind of yeast-spread for the non-South Africans, similar to Vegemite for the Aussies). Strange? Yes. I am not craving toast with Marmite, never had. As a child, we got toast and Marmite when we were sick, as that was often all we could stomach when feeling unwell. When I was healthy, I wouldn't touch it because of the association, but when I felt poorly, I had to have it. Then it was nourishment.

So no, it's not really strange that it came to mind this evening, seeing that I'm sitting in a hospital writing this, visiting my dad. So my association this evening is not a piece of dry, hard bread with a yucky-ish yeast spread on top of it, but a symbol of nourishment.

And that brings me with what has been my personal topic of the week - clarity and vision. When we step back from something, it has a different meaning. It seizes to be what it appears to be at the time, but it becomes what we need to see, or what lies behind it.

I'm seeing nourishment and an outcome this evening, not yucky hospital food. And it doesn't need to be physical nourishment, in fact, I doubt it is. That doesn't matter. It is how you choose to see it. I could choose to view the sight of the piece of toast as "Oh, no wonder as I'm amongst sick people", or "May there always be hope for something better if things are going badly".

I don't know how this will end. But tonight I choose to see it as nourishment, not sick-bay food.

Love and light,

Celeste