Last Sunday the Boy went out in his boat (I was Walking the Wight). He caught shimmery sun-glittered mackerel (I was stomping up hills suffering with “sausage fingers” – only hardened Walk The Wighters will know of this plight). And the next day whilst I was still sunburnt and staggering, we ate a beautiful meal of fresh fish, crushed new potatoes with horse radish and wild garlic.
It was The Best Feeling.
You’d think after a 26 mile stomp the previous day I’d be ravenous and carb- frenzied, but actually it was the wild garlic that did it for me.
Each mouthful was like entering Oz or Avalon. It wasn’t the flavour, so much as the soul nourishment of knowing that this wild plant had been picked from a woodland nearby and now I was eating it. The stems and white flowers had grown up with May bluebells and this was nourishment of the most gorgeous kind.
A week previous we’d taken a stomp downs.
“Did you know that gorse flowers are edible?” Ads asked me.
No I didn’t, but minutes later we were gingerly plucking the shell shape yellow flowers and trying a little nibble. The flavour was sweet like coconut but pea fresh – not what you expect from the ruddy, forboding spikes of a gorse bush.
Tasting gorse gave me a massive Gorgeousness Rush too.
And now I want to know, what IS this feeling?
It’s the feeling you get when you make camp and brew a cup of tea over a camp fire. Even if you’re using powdered milk and the water scolds your lips, when you taste it, you savour it. You feel the heat and relish the touch of enamel on your lips.
NOT what you feel when drinking a cup of tea EVEN IF it is in a gorgeous vintage tea cup. It’s just not the same relishment.
It’s the feeling you get when your mum comes home from Peru and gifts you a doll made from sack cloth and hessian. Her hair is crimson and caramel wool. Brush your thumb over her cheeks and you can hear the sound of autumn leaves rustling. Her arms and legs are stick wrapped in course wool.
NOT the same feeling as receiving a Barbie.
I think there is something so beautifully REAL about drinking tea that you’ve created over fire and wood rather than one of twenty you’ve boiled in a plastic kettle that morning. There’s something ESSENTIAL about eating wild garlic that has grown in a bluebell wood rather than a crop of greens that are then packaged in cellophane and flown in from Cypress. There is something TANGIABLE and RAW and TRUE about a toy that hasn’t been mass produced in a factory by machines then marketed out to the masses by more machines.
All these things have got heart. They’ve got soul. And by using, eating, drinking them, we take in their soul and their heart and in turn we feed something in us that the synthetic world cannot touch, let alone nourish.
I would really like to start Living Raw.
Last year I did my raw food cleanse for six weeks and that taught me so much about the effect our food has on our feelings of Gorgeousness – mind, body and soul. But now, when I say Living Raw, I mean that I would like to begin nourishing myself with things which haven’t been processed or prodded or synthetic-sized (wordage?). Things which are as they are. No tampering. I would like to see what happens.
I wonder whether our way of thinking, feeling, interacting or creating would alter if we stopped feeding our body with the synthetic and instead focused on local, fresh, living, unprocessed fish, meat and plants? I wonder if, by going back to the heart – to the source of Everything – our lives would become richer, heartier, more flavoursome … like a bowl of steaming peasent stew.
What do you think?
Would you be prepared to try?
I wonder …