These days go on and on into an endless oblivion. The sun, the ocean, the perfect unchanging Southern California weather. It's awful. It's painful. It is utterly boring.
I seek some kind of pleasure in food, always looking for the next meal. Anticipating, craving, salivating. I can hardly make it though an hour without checking out the situation in the kitchen, even though I was just there and know the whole inventory. Maybe something new will be waiting for me! Maybe there will be a sweet surprise. Maybe I'll come to a beautiful conclusion about my next meal, a spark of inspiration will hit and this meal will be the meal to end all hunger. These are just some of the thoughts that come to mind as I traverse the harsh landscape that is the day. What do I do with myself? How can I keep from eating? I cannot. I work so hard restraining myself in so many ways but food has such a grip on me. "Study it," I tell myself. "Study the craving, acknowledge it, dive into it." I don't know. Maybe tomorrow. I think I should practice the Buddha's discourse on the repulsive nature of food. I've been doing all of this thanking and showing gratitude for the energy that the food brings me, but maybe it's time to go the other direction and become repulsed by it.
