practicing intentionality

I reluctantly identify with my Aries sun and rising placements. The way I process life and metabolize ideas is fast, enthusiastic and burning. It’s a thoughtless tendency to rush, therefore my life’s work is to move slowly and with intention.

When I’m rushed, whether that be for no reason or with good reason, I’m disconnected from my body. Visibly, my hands will suffer from picking and nail biting. My breath will be shallow. If I’m in the kitchen and rushed, I’m not in the flow. If I’m in the kitchen but my mind is in another land, the food lacks flavor and abundance, and inherently seems less healthy.

The gift of undergoing a big life transition (such as moving from a small town in Mexico to modern and liberal Canada) is being able to decide what you choose to bring into this new space. Obviously my connection to food, hospitality, and creativity survived, but something I’ve tried to leave behind is my proneness to sprint through life. And by ‘life’, I mean all of the small moments in a day that could go unnoticed, but in their whole make up who we are.

wild garlic scapes and rainbow chard

In this new city of conscious choosing, I make the decision to visit the farmers market and connect with a real human being growing my food. It’s a small task that brings me into a space of curiosity, rather than the often mundane shop at the store.

This past Sunday, I drove down to Ladner to visit Cropthorne Farms’ farm stand. Though I realized then that they bring almost everything they harvest to their farmers market booth in the city, I was able to see how much land and labor is required to make such gorgeous produce available. Honestly, I take for granted the convenience that even the farmers market brings and I forget that there is a lot of energy and will behind monumental projects such as growing food for the public.

I picked up some rainbow chard, heritage green beans, wild garlic scapes, mineral rich dandelion for juicing, and round green squash to roast. At the same time, I met a lovely woman who allowed me to photograph their flower garden. I felt as if through this experience, the customers could sense the delight going into their meals.

Another simple practice that I’ve brought into my routine is shopping at the refillery. The closest one to me is The Soap Dispensary on Main St. in Vancouver.

Yes, it takes an extra trip to refill my soaps, detergents, washes and oils, but I choose to make a walk out of it. It’s a way for me to consider my intention and it’s a framework for building the life in which I desire participation.

It aligns with who I am and the business I conduct to reject single-use plastic convenience, and it makes me feel like part of a collective to support small businesses.

Relative to Earthy Plate, I feel fulfilled when each individual’s meals go out for delivery knowing that I was present and collected in the processes of shopping, planning, cooking. Negative feedback has diminished, though if someone were to complain, I can be confident in reparation or understanding that we’re not a fit.

In my personhood, I’ve rid my feelings of shame and guilt. I’m confident in what I do and how I attend my days. I know that there is no carelessness in my movement.

I’m always going to be learning, so there is no thing that I can share that is absolute and true, however I’d like to encourage you to audit your life. Audit the mundane. Take inventory of the tasks you do routinely. Where do you shop? How do you speak to yourself? How do you speak to others? When do you choose to interact with your friends? What kind of items are taking stock in your pantry? What kind of food are you nourishing yourself with? Where might you be able to be more expansive in taking care of your body and mind? Where might you be able to create more space in taking care of someone else?

Acting intentionally is meditation.