Putting Down My Fork . . . Between Bites

Recently while eating
 in silence with mostly nuns
I became aware that I was rushing
I saw myself merely shoveling the food in
As I have done for years
Always hurrying to the next event.

But during that meal
In silence
I had an awareness of the preciousness
Of each moment.
I became open to the present
Letting go, if ever so briefly
Of leaping forward to take control
Of the next moment
And the next.
Rather than shoveling at the trough
I put my fork down
Between bites.
Releasing my grip
I resided in the bite I had just taken.
I felt gratitude
For the hands which had prepared my meal
For the rain, the sun, and the earth
Which grew and nurtured the food
And for the seeds which germinated, sprouted, 
produced, gave harvest
And died.

I felt appreciation for
The texture and taste of each bite
I gazed upon the trees outside the window
from one meal to the next
I noticed the deepening yellow hue 
of the early spring willow trees 
I witnessed the hopeful changes
The signs of rebirth
The manifestations of life flourishing. 

Putting down my fork between bites
I savored my meal
And I thought of those who are hungry
Of those who are suffering in war torn countries
Without family, food, water or safety
I thought of them all
And held them in silent prayer.
As I chewed and as I swallowed
I felt tremendous gratitude for my life.

Putting my fork down between bites
Time slowed
It truly did
I slowed
I paused and appreciated
Life, love, food, drink, safety
And so much more.