aka The Frazzled Mom
Some people eat to live, while others live to eat. What about you? How far would you travel for the best meal of your life?
When I first saw this question, I immediately answered to myself, “I live to eat!” Then, I quickly looked around to make sure I wasn’t overhead. I had meant to think my answer, not say it aloud.
Giving it a little more thought, I cannot answer either way. Sure, I eat the food that I like and enjoy, so I don’t eat to live. However, I wouldn’t travel to the farthest reaches of the galaxy for the best food.
Case in point:
Friends of mine had spent all day cleaning out someone’s garage. It was a mess (borderline hoarder garage). Jars of expired food with their lids bending and nearly bursting open. “Evidence” of rats who had made a home in this promise land that held all the food they could possible need. Bags of rice or flour, spilling out of chewed holes and onto the dirty floor. Worms, beetles, spiders – oh mine! Again, it was a mess. They worked hard, filled multiple dumpsters.
By nightfall, when I had completed my work, they had completed theirs. Sweating and tired, eat one desired a time of relaxation, of vegetation. Normally, a movie would be in order, but how they were feeling a movie wouldn’t do. One within the group really wanted to see the new Star Trek movie, which had just come out in the theaters. Normally, it would have been on par for all of us to head off as a group to see this new movie.
But the group was tired. Yet, no one was voicing their opinion. The one friend continued to insist on the movie, noting that we could quickly grab a bit at a fast food place. There were groans, but no protests loud enough to be heard. Finally, I answered for everyone: “We will not go to (named nearly every fast food place in nearby). We are going to go to a restaurant and sit and visit.”
Enough said. Everyone cleaned up and we enjoyed a nice evening together.
I realize now, this is how I feel about food. Food, for me, is not to provide sustenance, to help me survive. For me, food is a social event. If I’m out with a friend, we go to a restaurant or coffee shop. It isn’t the food that really interests me, though I do eat. Its the people I’m with, the connections I’m making. I love to make and keep those connections, the ones that help me feel alive.
I thought the answer was that I lived to eat. But if I crave time with friends and family, over a good meal, perhaps I eat to live?