Panic used to be my default mode.

Focusing my fear on what wasn’t there,

I would have been sobbing and shaking, blaming and cursing

Before I found the inspiration

to realize that a cup of rice, some frozen spinach, and a little cheese go a long way.

How a little smoked paprika

can almost make it gourmet.

Cut the bad spots off this ripe tomato

and chop that up too.

All these years living in the scarcity economy

have taught you to make delicious out of nothing.

You taught yourself to work from scratch,

like your grandmothers used to do.

Not just for pride

Or less preservatives

Or on principal

but so you could weather days like these,

feeding on faith between pay checks

Whipping together meals out of whatever’s left.

A little salt and some garlic …

If you weren’t so hungry after yoga

you could have waited for the dried beans to cook.

Thrown those in the pot, too,

wrap it all up in a tortilla

like that’s what you meant to do all along

like this is what you would have cooked

even if you had other choices.

But you were that hungry.

Yoga always leaves you hungry

but not starving.

You will never starve.

Even if your own ingenuity were to fail,

you have nourished too many people.

Even though you always used to feel like it wasn’t enough

were always left wanting to do more,

to give more

to be more

(Maybe even stop writing about yourself in the second person —

Claim your life with an I; 

identify with yourself.)

Today, I am full on the belief that

we have grown too much love

to let each other suffer senselessly.