Here is a list of stuff I’ve recently traded for the fresh eggs of Myrtle, Pearl, Gertrude, and Freebird:
1. two jars of homemade pickles
2. a loaf of whole grain organic bread
3. two hands full of home grown green beans
4. a bag of home grown cucumbers
5. a bag of home grown jalapeños and bell peppers
Also, a friend recently offered to house/dog/cat/duck/chicken sit if and when I ever go out of town again, in exchange for fresh eggs.
Personally, I find this an impressive list given I’ve had the girls less than a month. The farmy bartering makes me downright giddy. Let it go down on the record that I have not eaten any of the eggs myself. I gave up eggs January 11, 2011 as a strange experiment with “enlightenment.” On a side note, when I just went back to find the link to the first blog post in which I announced this decision, I realized that the date translates to 1-11-11 . I suppose I won’t be forgetting that date again. It wasn’t an intentional “oooh-here’s-a-date-with-a-buncha-ones-in-it,-let’s-do-something-crazy” sort of decision. But apparently it was a good date for new beginnings, especially since the post I wrote right before that one was aptly named Conflict and Crisis.
On another tangential note…2 years, 10 months, and 1 day after beginning my enlightenment quest, my mother and I are still driving each other nutters. (Hi Mom!)
Looking back, it’s funny to see all the obvious patterns you missed as you’re moving through a life unfolding in real time. It’s also a little embarrassing. There I was, ego bare, for all to see.
And here I am still….
I wonder what obvious things I’m missing even now that I will look back on someday and snicker about.
The self-imposed egg prohibition was largely a symbolic gesture, which I attempted to explain many times to others (and to myself), as in the post: The Incredible Inedible Egg. In spite of all this, it has never made much sense to any of us I’m afraid. As a result I caught a lot of flack from family members who were baffled, horrified, or just plain outraged by my perceived havoc-wrecking habits on our family feasting functions.
My life is so different now from when I started all this. I am different. And I am the same. As life continues to unfold in real time, one pattern that has not escaped my notice is the irony. For someone who has worked so hard to avoid eating eggs, I’m now surrounded by them being laid before me on a daily basis. This certainly wasn’t planned, but it is welcomed.
A spiritual practice is one that brings us full circle – not to a new self, but rather back to the essence of our true selves.