Craverings

The Craverie, Kohler, Wisconsin

M and I were talking about cravings the other day....

He regularly asks me if I want a bite of the doughnut he has, or the chocolate he has almost unconsciously picked up. Ninety-nine times out of one hundred, I say no, and he 100% of the time says, "Oh, you're so good."
(Yes, he's always this generous and overflowing with sharing. His love language is giving...lucky me!)

I come from Venus, apparently, because my reaction to that is, "There's nothing good in that, in my mind - I just don't care about it."

My body, soul, mind, heart, self - they don't crave sugar. Turning it down is not virtue, for me.

Something combining fat, salt, and sugar, with layers or bubbles or lift, yes. Meijer potato chips and Riggins onion dip? I would almost drive the seven hours to Indiana for those. Kringle from O&H? Almond croissants? Lemony, nutmeggy chouquettes from "our" bakery on rue St. Maurice? Yes, please.

I sometimes kept myself to one per day.

Some of the people I love crave order: things in their places, patterns of life, of time, or belongings. Predictability. They feel restless, unmoored, anxious without order in some form.

Others in my universe feel restless with too much order. They crave color, or motion. Chaos.

The right colors on the walls reflecting the colors in the room. People they love pressed around them, or knowing there's enough space to breathe.

My cravings are largely unconscious, or instinctive. Trying to put them into words has taken several attempts and will take many more.

I know when they are being met.

Running at 5:30 a.m. with the light growing in a valley, linden-spiced, or a desert, sage-spiced.

Curling up on a couch at Christmastime, with as many of my loved ones in the cozy house as possible.

Hearing the Pacific pounding and the Western gulls screaming, feeling the coastal winds swirl. Bare feet in the sand and in the foam.

 Walking down a street of arches made of stones that hold summer sunshine and autumn chill, centuries of stillness in the commotion of history.

Water, stone, earth, sun, wind. Fireflies.

Connection with my community along with enough distance to not be sucked in. The freedom to jump in when I want.

light depth scent history space skinsensation
design lines meaning
shalom, for myself, my community, my web, the world
contrast irony hiddenthings
using my body
freedom and connection

I keep working at distilling these, so that I know how to steward the gifts of time and place I have been given, for the most good possible. And I continue to be grateful each day for the gift of just that: each day.

view from Benelux rooftop, Third Ward, Milwaukee, Wisconsin