Chex Mix

It’s 3:14 pm on a Saturday.  I’m still in my pajamas.  I’ve had my hair up all day.  I haven’t worked out. I haven’t showered. I haven’t put on any makeup. I haven't even cleaned the house or gotten anything productive done.  My kids, they’ve also been gone most of the day.  

Usually while they are gone, I try to get “important” things done.  But today, during my kid-free time, I made Chex Mix.   CHEX MIX…  Normally I’d fight myself on this one.  It’s an easy thing, do it with the kids here, let them help.  

Or that’s not a good use of kid free time, do something important, or I’d think that’s just a treat. You don’t need that, don’t waste your time on that. Yet, as I learn more and more to follow the energy of the day; my body, heart and mind want deeply to make Chex Mix. 

So you know what I did? I made chex mix. Every moment of making it was bliss.  It started with the thought, I can do this.  I can make Chex Mix.  I got out a pan, turned the heat on very low and put the butter sick in.  

I watched as the butter slowly melted, sloshing around the pan slipping and sliding as if there were nothing below it.  I watched it turn from a brick to a puddle, as the heat ascended its mass. I know that feeling.  The feeling that I think I’m solid, but no, I’m just a puddle. Can’t keep it together, I’m all over the place. 

I added the chocolate chips and watched them begin to glisten.  Their shape softening and color changing into a smooth shiny vague resemblance of what it once looked like before the heat took over.  I know that feeling too.  To look vaguely familiar, but losing my shape to the changes around me that will leave me feeling nothing like nor resembling anything that I was before. 

God, this is getting deep, I'm just making Chex Mix for crying out loud.  It all started because I just wanted to taste the chocolate and peanut butter, my favorite flavor combo on earth.  I mixed the chocolate mixture until it was smooth, creamy and looked beautiful.

 As I mixed it all together adding the beautiful aroma of the vanilla, I felt some kind of release as it all mixed together. Something in me came apart.   A part of me that got mixed into myself and hid who I really am under a deep sadness.  

The chex Mix showed me the bliss part. It also broke me. It broke a hard part of me away too. So then what I was witnessing as smooth chocolate bliss before me was reminding me how yummy life can be.   I poured it onto the chex squares. 

Every moment of making it was bliss, especially after sprinkling on the powdered sugar. And taking the first bite of that chocolatey peanut buttery yumminess.  I dipped my hand in and scooped out a big handful, getting chocolate all over my hands. 

I blissfully dumped it into my mouth savoring the taste and the time and the care I put into making it.  And do you know why this is important to me?  Because I don’t do things unless there is a good reason. I thought Chex Mix had no good reason.  

Or so I thought, but the pleasure of  making it, eating it and looking at it, that fulfilled me today.  When Grant was alive, I made food all the time.  I ate food all the time.  When he died.  I lost my appetite and could hardly eat for months, let alone make anything.   

Since then, I’ve lost my love and drive to make any food.  My kids eat what is around or we get take out.  I walk past the fridge and pantry with distaste because I don’t want to see what’s inside either of them.  It’s too much stimulation.  It’s all too much.  

Too much food, too much to do, too much to take care of and especially too much to make.  I don’t make things anymore.  Especially food, if I don’t have to, because I don’t want to.  But today, I made something, something sweet.  

I made something fun and something that took a little bit of time.  It gave me a pleasure I haven't felt in ages.  As I followed the energy of the day and put off updating my insurance, making my bed, working out, getting dressed or anything else productive; I made Chex Mix.

I accomplished something far more great than any one task could have been for me. Without me pushing the productivity, I feel a little bit of happiness. I remember from a long time ago and I enjoyed myself.