Round about dinner prep time I remembered that I had a Zoom session with my Small Group Ministry, a group of us from my UU church who meet a couple of times a month to drop in around a subject.
I stepped up and got dinner going. It was salmon and usually for me that’s practically a night off from cooking. I’ve been making the same salmon-under-the-broiler marinade for years now. The only other way I really like it is with fennel, from a recipe in the NY Times. The marinade I make goes like this: 1 tablespoon brown sugar, 1 teaspoon each of powdered ginger, mustard, and soy sauce. Mix together and rub onto salmon and put under the broiler. That’s it. Tonight I also roasted a whole cauliflower in my new, favorite way: with olive oil and s&p on a sheet pan in a hot oven. I could eat a whole tray of this. I had a hankering for baked potatoes - haven’t had those in a while. And it didn’t feel like there was quite enough, and the meal was missing garlic, so I quickly sliced a zucchini, minced some garlic and sauteed those. The meal was pretty darn good, but I ate it in a rush so I could get to my meeting.
This is not a very pretty picture, but boy was it delicious.
Tonight in our group session we talked about healing. Lots came up, including talking about our childhoods, for some of us. Also, it feels like there’s so much hurt right now - the pandemic, the politics - that everyone seems to be in a constant state of trying to get through it all, to heal from it. I was thinking today that our current president has done so much damage in so many arenas, I wonder how many years - if ever - it will take to repair. One member in our group talked about how important it is just to name our feelings, and that he’s teaching his own children how to do that.
His comment made me wonder if I’ve done that enough with our children. I’ve absolutely modeled feelings - anger, sorrow, joy, fear. When I think of the times that our children have really talked about their feelings, it’s always been times of spontaneous outbursts. Like when our cat Oliver died, we all cried so openly. So maybe that’s good, that they’ve taken opportunities to express themselves naturally. The times I’ve pressed them to tell me how they feel has never been easy.
These were the closing words of our meeting tonight, by L.R. Knost (which I realized as they were being read that I wrote an essay about these words several years ago):
“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.”