Saturday, August 11, 2007

Day 2... String Bean Casserole

In thinking about what it is I want to accomplish, I can’t help but thinking about a simple mathematical truth:


A sum is worth the whole of its parts


Who will be the best people to support and laugh and cry with me along this journey? What STUFF do I need to do this...


I love string bean casserole.


I HATE string beans


But the oniony, crunchy goodness that you are directed to add to the recipe, makes the evil taste of green beans somehow bearable.


Of course, I often think the best string bean casserole would be ALL the ingredients EXCEPT the green beans.


However, that is the ironic beauty of the recipe. That would be all style no substance...


Manolo Blahniks on a woman who can’t walk the walk!


All the crap works together to make a once healthy, albeit gross veggie side into a fattening tasty treat. BUT you still get the necessary nutrition.


My ingredients for a better life:


String beans – my regrets, my fears, my anger at myself, my controlling nature, my false hope (not to be mistaken with well placed hope), my self medicating, my blaming……………….both of myself and of others


ALL OF THESE MUST BE DIGESTED AND BROKEN DOWN IN ORDER TO MOVE FORWARD


Milk – Life itself, the will to live


Salt – of the earth……………….things in me that never change no matter what: my morals, my love of people, my trusting nature


Pepper – the spice (did someone say porn?), my ability to appear as if flirting, when I am really TALKING, the beauty that I find in the world that often transcends to become sensual and sexual, my wit, my keen ability to spot a man with a tight ass on the street, consequently MAKING my day.



Cream of Mushroom Soup - the glue that holds it all together, my family and friends – without them, there would be no casserole – we would be back to nasty string beans. People who will flow into and out of my life. Who will listen, not judge. Laugh and cry. Scream at me and yet pull me in their arms, who envelop me into the folds of their warm hearts and, while not sheltering me, protect me from being suffocated by the weight too many string beans.

Fried Oniony Goodness – the icing on the cake, ME in all of my glory, my writing being sent to publishers, my transfer to New York underway, my finances in a better position, my body not in such a large size BECAUSE my ass is in dance class, my emotions in check because I acknowledge their existence, not numb them through the plethora of the emotional Band-Aids sold in this world.

In other words


Dana 100%


No less than that.


Were it not for all of the other delicious ingredients, I would not have the courage to face my string beans. Because I would be mad at myself for having gotten there, rather than saying, “I needed them to learn about myself and arrive to a place of active hope.” I get the nutrition and the enjoyment as I dig deep and erupt outwards in all my glory.



Until I can be...

A blooming onion


What a dish! I don’t know about you, but I am HUNGRY!


Love and Hope,

Soul Dancer

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