Lord of the Peanut
I was sitting outside having my breakfast one morning. As many of you know, I love my oatmeal.
For some reason that morning, when I was preparing it, I counted all the different things that went into it. There were nine different ingredients! A world of flavors for the palate.
I decided to eat outside that morning. It was cool enough, and there was shade. I wanted to just be in nature.
Before I ate, I offered a little food prayer, one that my dear friend Arun taught me.
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Now, growing up in my household, we typically would offer a prayer, especially at dinner. And certainly on special occasions.
Something like:
"Dear Jesus, thank you for this food. Help it to nourish and strengthen my body. Amen."
Arun's prayer is something similar. I remember sharing a meal with him one time and watching him perform a brief and personal ritual before he ate.
We've all had those meals where we sit down and everything looks and smells so good that we quickly reach for the food and someone says, "Shall we pray?"
"Oh yeah... of course. I always pray."
I asked him what he does before eating, and he shared with me a little about the Food Prayer.
He told me the prayer asks us to recognize all of the actions that it took to get this food into our bodies.
All of the many hands that were involved in bringing this food to us.
All of the strength and challenges, stresses and joys of each person who touched this food before it arrived here.
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As I sat eating my breakfast, I thought about our purposes in life.
Have you ever truly been hungry?
I know there are very few times in my life that I have experienced real hunger.
For that I am grateful.
Although, as a young child, I was rather dramatic.
Oh, the stories my mom would tell.
I'd come running in...
"Mom... I'm literally starving!"
I could perform the role of a poor Dickensian orphan.
"Please, ma'am... may I have some more?"
I'd like to think I helped make her a saint.
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That morning, while I was making my food, I added a handful of peanuts.
One of them escaped.
It bounced off the side of the bowl...
Onto the counter...
And then...
Down onto the floor.
My first reaction?
Kick it underneath the refrigerator.
I really don't want to look under there.
Truly.
But then...
I started wondering...
What was the purpose of that peanut?
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Can you imagine the faraway land where it was grown?
The people tending the soil...
Planting the seed...
Nurturing the plant...
Harvesting it...
And then my imagination took over.
(Harp music.)
I faded into the point of view of the peanut.
That's just how my mind works.
That little peanut, perhaps with just a tiny bit of consciousness, thinking...
"Someday I'll serve my purpose. Someday, someone will need me."
I will travel with my brothers and sisters.
In baskets.
In bushels.
In trucks.
Processing plants.
More hands.
More stories.
More hope.
It finally found its way into a container...
Onto a grocery shelf...
Waiting.
"Is today the day? Will someone choose us?"
And then...
Success!
A home!
"Look around everyone! We made it! This is our moment!"
Somehow I'm picturing Mr. Peanut...
Top hat.
Little cane.
Doing a joyful jig.
The container opens.
Fingers reach inside.
"We're going! Everyone, this is it!"
Poured into the bowl.
But then...
"Johnny!"
"Johnny, come back!"
"One of us is missing!"
(Harp music fades.)
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Back in my kitchen...
There lay poor Johnny Peanut.
Moments away from exile beneath the refrigerator.
Cast away.
Voted off the Island of Oatmeal.
Joining the misfits beneath the refrigerator in a tiny Lord of the Flies civilization.
And then I stopped.
I thought about where that peanut came from.
How many hands had touched it.
How many stories.
How much hope.
How much unseen effort.
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So...
Well beyond the five-second rule...
I rescued Johnny Peanut.
My foot protested.
"But what about MY purpose? I was born to kick things!"
"Later, foot.
Later.
This is not your time."
I dropped Johnny back into the bowl.
And you could almost hear the others cheering.
"You're back!"
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I carried my breakfast outside.
I offered Arun's prayer.
I gave thanks for every hand.
Every soul.
Every effort.
Not just for that one peanut...
But for every ingredient in that bowl.
The prayer wasn't simply gratitude.
It was respect.
It was appreciation.
Perhaps even forgiveness...
For anyone who had been having a difficult day while helping bring this meal to me.
Food is such a powerful source.
We literally consume the energies of that food...
And all that it took to bring it here.
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Well, little peanut...
You made it.
You served your purpose.
And today...
I am grateful for how many hands have touched you.
Bon appétit.
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ROAR with Love,
Danny
The Emotional Driver
“Emotion Is the Note. You Are the Song.”
