This Sunday morning, I am sitting at my favorite place to work. A cafe in the Garden’s district of Cape Town, South Africa where I am currently living. And life is good. A view of the Table Mountain, a frothy beverage and the promise that I may glimpse the azure waters of the Atlantic in the afternoon. Hope in my heart and the feeling as I sit writing this blog post that I’m living my purpose.
Blip. Wait. Blip again. What’s that interrupting my all is calm morning? It’s my tummy! Good morning tummy! Seems I was so involved in my passion that I forgot to feed you! Nutrition to the rescue. Waiter?!
I bring this up because it’s a recent development in my life that I’ve managed to get so happy that I sometimes forget to eat. Maybe happy isn’t the right word. Purposeful? Closer.
As someone who grew up with an Italian mother, all joy centered around food. Food equaled love then, and to a large extent is still does now. I’m a bona fide foodie and there’s nothing I love more than gathering around a table with loved ones and enjoying a wonderful meal. But I’ve learned how to enjoy the non eating parts of life to. To feast so fully on each moment that I feel satiated by a different kind of sustenance. I think it’s called inspiration.
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