Forty Early Mornings Alone
A new moon teaches gradualness
and deliberation, and how one gives birth
to oneself slowly. Patience with small details
makes perfect a large work, like the universe.
What nine months of attention does for an embryo
forty early mornings alone will do
for your gradually growing wholeness.
-Rumi, The Illuminated Rumi
Say you have seen something. You have seen an ordinary bit of what is real, the infinite fabric of time that eternity shoots through, and time’s soft-skinned people working and dying under slowly shifting stars. Then what?
~ Annie Dillard
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
~ Rabindranath Tagore
It is only when people begin to shake loose from their preconceptions, from the ideas that have dominated them, that we begin to receive a sense of opening, a sense of vision…That is the sort of time we live in now. We…live in an epoch in which the solid ground of our preconceived ideas shakes daily under our uncertain feet.
~ Barbara Ward
“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
Next to jazz music, there is nothing that lifts the spirit and strengthens the soul more than a good bowl of chili.
~ Harry James
This week’s soup is not a soup at all, but a chili. I figure since restaurants get away with slipping chili into the soup categories on their menus, I can get away with slipping a chili into my Souper Sundays. The original purpose of my soup challenge was to make something different, but some days I crave an old (or in this case, fairly recent) standby and this chili is my go-to for warmth and comfort. I actually made this earlier in the week when it was quite cold outside.
This is a vegan chili although you could, if you wanted, add cheese and sour cream (or crema) for garnishes. M and I like ours garnished with avocado, green onions, and cilantro that I’ve mixed with some lime juice. It adds a nice, fresh, pop of color and flavor to the dish.
There are a variety of recipes for this chili. My favorite is this one, but I do change one thing. I use chipotle peppers in adobo sauce instead of ground chipotle powder. I’ve heard that some adobo sauces use a meat stock (chicken, usually), but the one I buy does not and is therefore vegetarian/vegan. When I cut up the chipotle peppers, I remove most of the seeds. I leave some for the heat/spice. It’s a difficult balancing act because some chipotle peppers are hotter than others, in my experience. The more seeds you put in the chili, the hotter the chili will be. I also add some of the adobo sauce because it adds even more smokey flavor to the chili. If you can find them, fire roasted tomatoes also add more smokey flavor.
Thanks for stopping by for another Souper Sunday. If you decide to cook up some of this chili, please let me know what you think of it and/or any variations you try.
Be good, be kind, be loving. Just Be. 🙂
A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy: 151) Weekend beach time. 152) Foggy mornings. 153) The sound of the Laughing Gulls in the farm field next door. 154) Sleeping in on a Sunday. 155) Listening to New Orleans jazz music while typing up my Souper Sunday post.
Whatever we are waiting for — peace of mind, contentment, grace, the inner awareness of simple abundance — it will surely come to us, but only when we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart.
~ Sarah Ban Breathnach