Soul Food

"Eat your bread with joy;

Drink your wine with a merry heart."

--Ecclesiastes 9:7

There was a period of time in my twenties when I began each day with a cup of coffee, a cigarette, and a birth control pill. I ate too, toast or cereal. I was never one of those women who "forgot" to eat. But the daily essentials were the coffee, to wake me up after not nearly enough hours of sleep, the cigarette, to feed my self image as a tragically hip, urban young woman, and the pill, to minimize the consequences of some of that tragic hipness. While this breakfast of champions provided the essential nutrients for a dramatic, brooding lifestyle, it was thin gruel for the soul.


I lived in a house in the lower Haight Street district of San Francisco. Anywhere from five to seven people might be staying there at any one time, but only three of us were paying rent. The others included various friends, boyfriends, and friends of boyfriends. As you might guess, it was not the most wholesome environment. The dishes were never done, people were often hungover, the nights went on too long. For those of us who had jobs, the mornings were cruel.


Still, we managed to create moments of connection to sustain us. I could wander into Marsha's room on any weeknight at 6:00 and flop down on her bed to watch "Family Ties." (Though Marsha's boyfriend had a stiff black mohawk, she had a thing for Michael J. Fox). Molly lifted my spirits many times with a good story, a listening ear, and a soft, enveloping hug. Bobby could always make me laugh. And on many Sundays we gathered for pasta with marinara sauce and several glasses of Gallo Hearty Burgundy to share stories (often embellished) from our weekend adventures.  We were a messy, chaotic, dramatic, family of sorts.


I still love my friends from those days. Like siblings, we helped each other grow up. None the less, that life was far more draining than fulfilling. I was never really at home in that world of nightclubs, speed freaks, and cool indifference. I spent a lot of time in my head brooding and imagining different lives, knowing that I would not stay there long. That lower Haight Street world was a hollow one with a brittle shell. It had a lot of drama, but drama does not provide much sustenance.


Today my life could not be more different. I am greeted by a veritable banquet of food for the soul every day. I still start the day with a good cup of coffee, but the cigarettes are long gone, the pill no longer necessary. My life contains the ingredients of a hearty, soulful soup now: Family, close friends, an incredible religious community, fulfilling work, a good dog, abundant natural beauty, music, writing, and so much more. There is far less drama in my day to day life, but my soul never goes to bed hungry.