Wisdom Wednesday – Love…in Five Parts

It struck me this morning, as I was driving into an office I frequent and entire day-and-a-half a week, how blessed my life has been by love. Are you wondering what brought about this epiphany? Why, Lady Antebellum did. One song in particular entitled, If I Knew Then. The chorus - Cause love only comes once in awhile, Knocks on your door and throws you a smile, And takes every breath, leaves every scar, Speaks to your soul and sings to your heart, And if I knew then what I know now, I’d fall in love - touches me on the many levels of this mysterious condition that allows my heart to soar and ache all at the same time.

It’s a charming little four-letter word, isn’t it? L-O-V-E. Its definition remains so enigmatic that not one of us has yet to truly figure it out.

At its foundation, love is defined (in this case by Dictionary.com) as: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. Sounds lovely, right? But love has many different levels, layers that fill a person’s pie shell with sweet, sour and savory flavors that affect how we give generous, or calorie reduced slices of love in return.

In my lifetime I have been touched by the love of my parents and family, I have fallen in love with three men who shaped me as a woman and will always hold a place in my heart, and I have experienced the enormous love between mother and daughter. Blessed I tell you, blessed!

So what is it about love, on a Wednesday, which inspires me to delve into this recipe? Pain. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to drag you into my current brand of crazy, but, that insanity is what is keeping me up at night forcing me to think about whether my recipe is good enough, or not.

Also, love is taboo. It’s something we choose not to jinx; talk about before its time. Unless we are closely connected to friends and family, we rarely release it from the vest. So, this is my attempt to get you to share your recipe for love. Educate me. Listen intently, I may just teach you a little something in return. Ah, the give and take of…love. See, intimacy abounds.

Here we find ourselves at the end of Love – Part I. Mise en place is complete. Now, let’s start putting the ingredients in this pie and talk about how they help us express the love we feel. Yes, feeling is scary, but you can do it. I believe in you.

Until next Wednesday and Part II, I remain Unstoppable.

Truth or Fiction Thursday - The Foodie Ballerina

Emma was a spitfire. At twenty-three, she was the youngest Executive Coordinator ever hired at a Culinary School in the Southeast. She was the anomaly in a field otherwise dominated by older male chefs entrenched in the area’s restaurant scene. The lanky food-lover hurried to get to know every chef that opened a restaurant in her town inviting them to showcase their food in one of her many classes. She viewed her position as a stepping stone to her dream job – restaurant public relations and marketing.

Sitting at her linen-covered table, she shook her head, hoping with desperation she could let go of work for two days. She wanted forty-eight hours to enjoy the beach, but the food on the island called to her, leading her to a new restaurant famed for its play on Southern cuisine.

Her meal was exquisite - pecan-crusted salmon and Portobello cheese grits with wilted greens. She savored every delicate bite allowing the sweet, rich flavors to mingle and fill her palette and soul with the peace she desired.

Taking her last sip of tannin-rich Pinot Noir, she asked her waitress, “Could you please ask Chef to come to the table so I could pay him my compliments in person?”

“Absolutely!” the summer-bronzed woman replied, making haste to the kitchen.

Distracted, Emma’s eyes wandered around the restaurant spying lovers in dimly lit corners, and paintings with bright, contemporary colors. She was at home in her surroundings and filled with confidence.

Seconds later the chef stepped into the dining room. Dressed in crisp, formal whites, toque sitting atop his head, he appeared to be seven feet tall. Emma’s breath caught in her chest as the handsome, mysterious man approached the table, his self-assured stature enchanting.

She offered her hand and began to speak, but instead of shaking it in response, Chef pulled Emma to her feet, twirling her out into the middle of the room, her shapely, tan legs peeking out from under her short, flowing red dress. Captivated, Emma fell into the moment, letting Chef’s hand in the small of her back direct her every step.

With nary an introduction, they danced around the room to cascades of Sinatra’s snappy beat, swaying back and forth, the music guiding them closer and closer to one another. When the tune ended, Emma’s cheek was pressed against that of the chef’s, her right hand curled tightly in his left, her knees trembling, announcing her coolness had long since left her.

It’s your turn to join the conversation. Do you think this really happened? Does it sound eerily similar to something you’ve experienced? Comment and tell us what Unstoppable moments have occurred in your own life.

Until tomorrow’s reveal, I remain Unstoppable.

The Power of a Hug

It's really quite amusing to me when you realize how desperate you are to be touched. It seems as if touching would be the most basic, human part of one's marriage, life. In my life, due to time constraints, struggles, and the pure exhaustion that follows a day of chasing a little girl (or 58 employees in my husband's case); it doesn't come all that easy. I dare say my husband and I try to snuggle up on the couch while he does homework or I read and relax, but with the laptop doing its job of sitting on the lap, snuggling doesn't always come easy.

The other night as I wearily made my way to the bathroom for my end-of-day routine my husband met me at the door with the most incredible hug EVER to be had. He slid his hands under my white cotton t-shirt, lifted me off the ground with his masculine, well-defined arms and back, and just held me there for a moment. It was passionate, touching, and reached into my soul to give my spirit something it so urgently needed - love. It felt damn good to have that kind of passion if only for that single moment.

I haven't been able to get it back sense, that hug, that passion, which I guess is why it so amuses me when you realize how desperate you are to be touched.