In Yoga philosophy, as with all the great faiths, God could never be captured in words. But if you tried, you might say God is an intelligence akin to the Force in Star Wars or what Voltaire seems to have been getting at when he wrote that “God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere.”
I know there are as many yogic philosophies as there are scientific theories. Samkhya, Vedanta, Tantra. There is probably now a yoga philosophy they sell exclusively online for just $99.99 with a limited edition organic recycled yoga mat. Humans love to brand and argue. But the truth of our original nature must be singular. And yogis would note that meditation, religion, service, science, philosophy, and those funny pretzel poses are all paths to God. But none of those paths or methods encapsulates God. And none is better than the others. The paths are simply fingers pointing at the moon, rafts across the ocean of suffering, different strokes for different folks. Or to use my favorite metaphor, the paths — like all things subject to birth and death — are waves.
God is the sea.
~ Jaimal Yogis, All Our Waves Are Water: Stumbling Toward Enlightenment and the Perfect Ride
“What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet voice it had!
“I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly, “Nothing, just now.”
“Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”
Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what you call yourself?” she said timidly, “I think that might help a little.”
“I’ll tell you, if you’ll come a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I can’t remember here.”
So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in a voice of delight. “And dear me, you’re a human child!” A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it had darted away at full speed.”
~ Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
You needn’t tell me that a man who doesn’t love oysters and asparagus and good wines has got a soul, or a stomach either. He’s simply got the instinct for being unhappy.
~ ‘Saki,” pen name of Scottish writer Hector Hugh Munro (1870-1916)
We have been eating asparagus from our garden for the past two weeks. We have a bumper crop this year and since I don’t like canned or frozen asparagus, the only left to do is eat it day after day after day until the season ends. Barbara Kingsolver, in her book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, wrote about how the asparagus season lasts just long enough for us to grow sick of it and not want to see it again for another year. I couldn’t find that particular quote, but did find this:
“Respecting the dignity of a spectacular food means enjoying it at its best. Europeans celebrate the short season of abundant asparagus as a form of holiday. In the Netherlands the first cutting coincides with Father’s Day, on which restaurants may feature all-asparagus menus and hand out neckties decorated with asparagus spears.”
~ Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life
It was that book, by the way, that inspired me to plant my first asparagus bed while we were living in NE Ohio. The asparagus bed is one of many reasons I’m happy that M the Younger and his wife are renting our house and property in the Bogs. They both like asparagus, they also like to grow their own food, so the asparagus bed has not gone to waste or ruin.
The photo I began with doesn’t do the beauty of this soup justice. Picking an orange bowl to photograph it in was probably a mistake, and the soup was a little on the thin side so the garnish of asparagus tips gave in to gravity and sunk into the soup. Ladled into a white bowl, you would have been able to see how beautifully green this soup is.
I have tried several recipes for asparagus soup. This is my favorite. You can find the recipe here. The only thing I change when making it is the broth. I have used a homemade light vegetable broth and, in a pinch, Better Than Bouillon No Chicken Base (which I think has something of a celery flavor to it which is fine for this soup). The next time I make it, which might be soon, I want to try this broth although I might leave out the parsnips. I think the leeks and mint would be a wonderful compliment to the asparagus. M wants to try putting a bit of cream in it and serving it cold. We will probably try that, too.
I am also thinking that this might be a good soup to freeze to eat later. I am going to give it a try with the next batch, assuming we don’t eat it all first.
Thank you for stopping by for Souper Sunday. If you decide to give this soup a try, let me know how it turns out for you. Also, if you have any good asparagus recipes, feel free to share them with me in the comments section. We’re gonna be eating A LOT of asparagus over the next few weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a harvest this big before (from our garden).
Be good, be kind, be loving. Just Be. 🙂
A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy: 176) Asparagus!! 177) All the ways you can prepare and eat asparagus! 178) Waking at sunrise and listening to thousands of laughing gulls greeting the morning from the farm field next door. 179) Hearing a bob white’s distinctive call (which means they’re back for another season). 180) A phone call from my granddaughters this morning to wish us a Happy Easter. Speaking of which, Happy Easter to those of you out there celebrating it!
We’re only here for a short while. And I think it’s such a lucky accident, having been born, that we’re almost obliged to pay attention. In some ways, this is getting far afield. I mean, we are – as far as we know – the only part of the universe that’s self-conscious. We could even be the universe’s form of consciousness. We might have come along so that the universe could look at itself. I don’t know that, but we’re made of the same stuff that stars are made of, or that floats around in space. But we’re combined in such a way that we can describe what it’s like to be alive, to be witnesses. Most of our experience is that of being a witness. We see and hear and smell other things. I think being alive is responding.
~ Mark Strand
The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.
~ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
“Gain strength. Suck up energy. Make a point of appreciating the fragrance of the flowers and the beauty of the sunset. It is like armor. When you take a moment to practice my message you can then be armed with an ability to be detached. One is meant to forgive, to forgive and be compassionate.”~Kuan Yin”
~ Hope Bradford, Oracle of Compassion: The Living Word of Kuan Yin
The past is never where you think you left it.
~ Katherine Anne Porter