This global pandemic season has caused a considerable difficulty for me in finding motivation. I don’t know if it’s depression. Maybe. Lots of what’s-the-use? kind of feelings for sure. There are so many things I could/should be doing, but why? 

House projects? (My house is full of boxes of stuff you lovely people have sent to use in our new building. Hard to organize, and why fix anything til I can reclaim the space?) 

Writing? (Hard to feel it.) 

Exercising? (Um… I didn’t ever feel motivated to exercise before this mess.)  

One delay after another on the opening of our new Joe’s Addiction building (now caused by COVID-19) that have caused me great frustration over the last year now have me simply sighing deeply with each day. 

We are soooo close, and yet still waiting.

But in the midst of the malaise, the highlight of my day continues to be our daily community lunches outside in our community garden space. From day to day, I never know who will show up or how many. Some days it’s a dozen. Other days 25 people gather to eat and connect. We check in on each other, notice who we haven’t seen in a few days, offer encouragement, and eat yummy food. 

Food is my love language.

Most days I cook the meal in my own kitchen and then drive it to the location. Folks help me carry everything from my car to the table where the swarming flies are waiting to fight for a taste of the fixins. The Instant Pot has become my best friend and I’ve become pretty good at organizing side dishes, condiments and flatware to conveniently transport back and forth.

Yesterday we ate baked potatoes with margarine, chili, sour cream and cheese toppings. I love being able to serve each plate made-to-order according to each person’s likes, dislikes, and favorites. “No sour cream, please.” Food is my love language. 

When I arrived today, the atmosphere was light and cheerful. Truth be told, “silly” is a better word (due to the recent sharing of some herbal attitude booster just before my arrival). Jokes and laughter, good-natured teasing, and gratefulness made for a joyous time together.

Feeding the Hungry

After lunch I had one stop to make on my way home—a delivery of some mail that came for one of our #lovegang dudes. He didn’t make it to the lunch, but I knew where he’s been staying under an overpass a couple of exits up the freeway. 

I honked my horn several times as I drove under the overpass. There was a group of folks perched up high in the shade and several posted on the different corners “flying signs.” Lucy (my car) is recognizable, so I knew if my friend was there he’d know it was me. I pulled into the gas station on the corner and sure enough, he came running with another guy close behind him.

He smiled as I donned my mask and opened my car door. “Guess who’s with me?” It was a friend I haven’t seen in more than a year. 

“Hi! Long time no see!” 

“Yeah, it’s been a minute,” he said. 

“You’re lookin’ so skinny. You doin’ okay? You been eating?” I asked. 

He turned to my #lovegang friend and said, “Man, I just asked you if I looked like shit and you said No!” We all laughed.

I handed over the mail and he thanked me and then asked, “You got anything to eat?” 

“Well, it just so happens I do. We had leftover baked potatoes from lunch. You want one?” 

“Are you kidding? Yeah!” 

I asked our other friend if he’d have one too and he said, “Nah. I’m good.”

I opened the car door and started making a bowl. I know my #lovegang friend very well, so I knew he’d like all the toppings. I loaded it up. Butter. Chili. Sour cream. Cheese. 

While I was putting it all together, he talked a mile a minute, filling me in on what’s been happening in his life the last few days since I’d seen him. Missed appointments. Lost and stolen papers. Frustrations. 

“That sucks, dude. I’m sorry things have been so rough.”

As I handed him his potato, our other friend said, “Woah! I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said potato!” I asked if he wanted one after all. He had changed his mind. So I made one for him too—all the fixins—he looked like he could use the mountain of calories.

As I put all the lids back on the containers and closed my car doors, the guys both thanked me. I reminded them we eat together every day at the garden. My long lost friend asked, “Every day?” 

I told him, “Yep. You’re welcome to join us any time.” 

He said, “I just might do that,” and the two of them headed back across the street to climb up under the overpass. 

As I got in my car to leave, I noticed several people pumping their gas staring at our happy lunch-from-the-car scene. I waved as I passed them, hoping my smile and Lucy’s flowers just might make their day a little brighter too. 

it’s been a minute

Today, my long-lost friend showed up for lunch at the garden. Sheepishly, he grinned and said, “You said I could come and eat with you guys?” 

“Yep! Welcome. Today we’re having burrito bowls. Look who’s here guys! — We haven’t seen him in a minute!”

There is so much of life I can’t fix right now. Or even ever. But this. This is the reason I get out of bed every morning.