A good morning; early, and met with fresh squeezed lemon juice mixed with rejuvelac. More on this batch of rejuvelac tomorrow. There is a definite difference to it.
The rejuvelac sat beside a bowl of orange pieces and bee pollen, covered with almond milk topped and BC cherries. I couldn't finish the whole breakfast so most of the rejuvelac went with me on the road again.
I forgot to take food with me today so I did the cooked challenge. I had an organic coffee, second one this week with a straight up commercial bagel that actually flattened into a spongy dough 'substance' as it cooled after being toasted. That was the weirdest bagel ever to cross my lips. It spoke to me that I was most likely eating inorganic chemicals (of inanimate, not biological origin).
Later I carried on to explore eating a cooked meal, again. Seems to me that January was the last time I decided to eat a cooked meal. I ate Mexican; a vegetarian quesadilla. The picture shows the waitress serving me the meal.
The first few bites held a flavour of sorts and soon it made no sense in my mouth. My mouth became desensitized to the food. That was an odd experience!
I had absolutely no interest in any dessert!
When I returned home, I devoured fresh whole cherries.
During the meal I stayed mindful of my reaction to the cooked eating experience. There was little life left in the food and I maintained a neutral reaction to what I ate. The coffee was deelish!
On my way home I thought about the idea of addiction. I think addiction is merely the denial of having made a choice. An unwillingness to acknowledge a personal choice has been made; pretending that something/someone is in control. That can run deep.
In effect a not knowing how to be at peace with ones choice.
Following this day, a night time dream brought me face to face with an aspect of myself that is no doubt tied up with an emotional component of eating. The dream portrayed this aspect as a domineering man. I was mindful of him in my dream as I was mindful of myself during the cooked meal. He was of a controlling nature, thinking everything around him ought to be as he spelled it out to be. I only watched him; I offer no judgement about his ways. I felt fine with who I am and what I did and the choices I made for myself even though he made it clear that he wasn't.