Cooking My Life

We saw a good movie last night. It's called How to Cook Your Life. When I bought the tickets, I asked for a ticket to "How to Eat Your Life". That says a lot about me and food. I often think about eating and seldom about cooking. But that will change now, from having this wonderful model of mindful cooking (and living) in my brain bank.

The movie is slow. Beautiful photos of a snail on a wall and Edward Espy Brown cutting carrots. Not everyone will like it. Brown, chef and Buddhist teacher, talks about his own process in learning to accept his human frailties, particularly anger. He also talks about the joy our hands feel when they can be of use, especially in the many movements and rhythms of food preparation. Now when I enter my kitchen I feel part of a larger tradition. I forget the name of the Zen cooking disciples. It starts with a "T" (or is it "D"?) What I do remember is the feel of their dedication to the art of bringing nourishment to the community.

In the film are clips of Brown's teacher, Shunryu Suzuki. In one talk Suzuki Roshi tells of hearing a noisy blue jay. Rather than chafing at the dissonance of the bird's squawks, the monk imagines blending with the sound and becoming a blue jay. At home I went to bed early. Sam was practicing his guitar in the living room. I have to leave the bedroom door open for our cat, Luna, to come and go. Hearing that guitar just flat out annoyed me. I was tired. Wasn't it my right to have a quiet house? So unfair blah blah. Then I remembered the blue jay story. I settled down into the sound: plink, strum, plunk. I was asleep in no time.

Siel, at Emerald City has a good review of the movie-more detail and link to the trailer.