Tolerating Blandness

I went to a zen meditation last night.  After one meditation, there is a lecture.  The lecture was about people's tendency to want to chase away the blandness of life.  I think that is why it is hard for a lot of people to sit with grief.  Grief feels to me like waiting for things to get better than bland.    Tonight I made a kale soup for dinner and it was just ok.  Nothing to write home about.  And I am going to try to be ok with that instead of chasing it with other food that may or may not be tasty.  I'm full so...  It's really hard for me not to overeat right now.  It's where I've always gone to try to get excitement.  Hey, I tried to cook a healthy and economical meal and be responsible for my health and my money instead of take out.  As I was eating, there's a simple grey bird that is in New Jersey for the summer called the catbird.  It sounds like R2D2 from Star Wars, but it ends it's song with something that sounds like, "Larry" (sometimes it sounds like meow--hence the name).  Every spring Larry and I (I turned Larry into a birdwatcher when I met him) would wait for "Larry" and one of us would say, "catbird is back".  Catbird has been back for quite some time, but caught me off guard tonight and felt bittersweet.  

I will forgive myself if I have the last of the blueberry pie later.