Dangerous Compassions

how my pasta is spelt

“I hate hippies.  Too bad I am one,” I said to Ming.

I had ordered online some spelt pasta.  “Yeah, in case your elbow is in a spelling bee,” I said.

I read the box directions for cooking the pasta.  It said to bring water to a boil and slowly add the pasta.  “Yeah, it’ll be more nutritious if you add it slowly.  Wouldn’t want to upset your pasta!”

That’s what I meant about hating hippies.  “Intentionality,” Ming said.

It hurts me, how we’re supposed to do everything mindfully.  Oh, hippies.  I like the idea of paying attention, being in the moment, doing what I’m doing.  Yeah!  But feels sad when it’s a marketing tool, rather than a heartfelt thing.

I’m glad to meditate, do yoga, see the flower I’m looking at, enjoy my breath.  But adding pasta to boiling water?  I don’t know–maybe, yeah, but not at the instructions on the box.

“It’s an experiment,” Ming said.  “I added the pasta quickly!”

“Did you hurt its feelings?” I asked.

Ok, that was too much snark.  Thank you for being patient with me.

mail art

mail art

Mail art du jour, fresh for the sending.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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