I very much love the fact that I fully explore my motto of "The Art of Living Yoga," yet I never thought that a sweet whole wheat, rice flour, blueberry pancake would be one of my teachers.
Yesterday, my sister and her man were visiting from Los-Angeles, so I decided to make them a yummy breakfast. Pancakes have a special feel to them because I don’t eat them too often; in my mind they are reserved for special occasions.
As I combined all the ingredients together, I tasted the batter to make sure it was going to be a hit. The verdict was good, but not stellar.
Instead of spending more time with the batter (as my instinct had indicated) I thought to myself, it's fine, once we put on the maple syrup and my yummy trail mix it will taste out of this world.
The pancakes where finished and it was time to dine.
Although the company enjoyed the various flavors, for me the final verdict was the same as it was when I tasted the batter--good, but not stellar. The batter--or core essence of the meal--was not at its best, and the additions, although tasty, did not make up for what was missing on the ground floor.
After eating, I thought to myself how profound this little pancake has been.
It reminded me of all of the times in my life when I wasn’t investing in the core of my being.
Instead, I would cover up, wear a mask, and add from the outside in to hide the lack I felt inside.
What shifts when we spend more time on the batter to generate our sweetness from the inside out?
Food for thought with a blueberry on top.