I CHEWS LIFE

In the world today, it seems we barely have time for the basics. We demand our food fast, our internet instantaneous, and our gratification anything but gradual. I wish I could say I’m immune to this dash toward some imaginary finish line, but alas, I’ve fallen victim to the ticking time bomb too.

So let’s break this idea down a bit, that is, if you have the time to read on…

How long does it take you to eat an apple? Not one of those gargantuan apples, and not one of those bite-size ones either – just a good old fashioned Gala of average proportions. Five, maybe ten minutes tops, right? Answer honestly and you’ll be able to plot where you rank on the “rush-o-meter.” And unless you’re like a snake and swallow the darn thing whole, chances are - I’ve got you beat. Heavens, I polish off a Granny Smith in less time than it takes your real Granny to criticize your haircut. And if your Granny is anything like my Granny – that rivals the speed of light.

Anyway, unlike the present progression of society – this is no recent development for me. I’ve always been a fast eater. From the time I was little, my happy meals were almost always happily digesting by the time we got home from the neighborhood drive thru. And as I got older and discovered boys, (er…or how about when they finally discovered me) it was all I could do not to finish my meals before the men! Indeed, I am no stranger to scarfing. But why? Has my life really always been so busy or my food so scarce that I have to consume calories as if I had a shot clock above my head? 3…2…1…No! If anything, my mom was doing her best to slow me down from the get go. You know the scene.

Mother and toddler at the dinner table. First you hear the mother petition the child, “chew your food” or “chew it up good.” On this initial exclamation, her head tilts slightly as her voice delicately raises an octave and her shoulders follow suit. But after the fifth time of the chip-munk cheeked child gobbling huge fistfuls with little more than a slight lowering of her jaw – mom’s tone takes a turn for the stern. “CHEW YOUR FOOD!!!”

Now I wish this post could be one of those firsts where I exclaim that my mom was wrong. You know, that I could say that chewing my food was a big ol’ waste of time. And yet – here I sit, with my mouth full of crackers, once again defeated. Mom was right. (munch…munch…munch…) I was supposed (munch) to chew my food then, (munch) and I’m supposed to (munch) chew my food now. (swallow) Hmm…I wonder if that means she was right about changing my underwear every day too? Go figure.

So, I know it sounds ridiculous, but today I’ve made the effort to chew my food. Like REALLY chew my food. Anyone else made it a point recently to do the same? Try it! Holy cow, after my mid-morning snack you’d have thought I’d spent 30 minutes making out with an opera singer. T-I-R-E-D! Physical proof that I haven’t been adequately chewing. It took 24 years mom, but I suppose I’ll take your word for it and finally chew my food. I bet that exclamation tastes good, huh?

At this point in the post, let’s just go ahead and vocalize your thoughts for a moment: “Kim, did you really just spend 6+ paragraphs talking about chewing your food?!” Yes, dear reader, I did. And all that chewing brings us to this moment. Hopefully not the moment when you spit me out and disregard swallowing the sentiments to come, but hopefully the moment when you digest the grander purpose of this post, get to the core of one convoluted correlation, and internalize one delicious epiphany. It’s time to buckle up and Bon Appétit people! Chewing slowly of course…

You see, if my chewing omission stopped at the kitchen table, this really wouldn’t be a big deal. But like any good psychology minor – I know that this physical manifestation must be a glimpse into the inner workings of my psyche. What? This behavior goes beyond bites of food and encompasses habits I happen to have. Huh? My eating routine speak volumes about how I approach other aspects of my life. Come again? I think too much.

Let me explain. I’m writing a children’s book. And every time I sit down to work on it, I have this insane desire to plow through and complete my very own If-You-Give-A-Mouse-A-Cookie-esq masterpiece in one sitting. I know that’s not how it works, but I still want to be able to just bite into the project and finish it whole. You guessed it though – I forget all about the chewing portion of my progression as an author. The chewing, in this case, is the draft after draft after draft after draft after draft after draft after draft after draft that I must write to make my manuscript a masterpiece. And you know what - it’s ok to have to do that. Cause I’m figuring out that it’s the process that produces the power. It’s the productive breakdown and reassembly that creates a strong story. And it’s the work (and faith!) that creates the miracle. That said, if God were to smile upon me the perfect story in one sitting, who would I be to decline the offer ;)

To further illustrate, as previous posts have revealed, I’m not the cleanest kid on the block. The goal - keep my apartment consistently clean. But most times I want to be able to clean the whole darn thing in one hour. Hah! Again, biting off a little more than I can chew. I need to take smaller bites. One room (or pile) at a time. If I try to take it on all at once, I might just choke under the pressure and end up watching Myth Busters reruns on the couch. Not that that’s ever happened or anything. (shifty eyes) So an apple a day may keep the doctor away, but cleaning a pile a day will keep the sanity close.

And then there’s the gym. I mean, after all that chewing, a girls gonna have to get to it! So I have the goal of being in rockin’ shape. Yet every time I go to the gym I want my 2 hours (That’s English for 30 minutes) to get me from weenie to Wonder Woman lickety split. Poof! I like to imagine that my elliptical is like that machine Steve Urkel made that magically transformed him into STEPHAN Urkel. Yeah, I know I live in a dream world. Magic would be nice, but I’m positive I’ll have to put the work into my workouts if I’m going to put my butt into my skinny jeans. It’ll be daily consistency that will change my physique. I’ll have to take small bites and chew my way toward tip top shape. Gloriously, when I actually DO reach my fitness goals, I’ll have the perfect answer for the question, “Did I do that?” OH YES I DID! Ah, the sweet taste of achievement.

Ok then, so we know that when life gives us lemons, we’re supposed to make lemonade. But what about when life gives us apples? Chew. The answer will always be chew. And when you get to the core, you can look back on all you took in knowing full well that you savored every delicious second. So just keep chewing on that goal you’ve got, and pretty soon you’ll be savoring sweet success. Success that you earned one bit, one bite, one morsel at a time. Mmmm…chew on that.

No seriously, chew your food. Cause I can’t give you the Heimlich from here.