I am aware that another post about chocolate could very well mean that it threatens to overtake popularity as a frequent topic on my blog- ousting traffic stories and doctor visits (well, how do you think one survives traffic and doctor experiences in Congo if not with good chocolate, really?) But this one is important- though not necessarily my favorite. Cuddling your chocolate promises to be my favorite expression for the next 10 years or so at least.
I have had a life long relationship with chocolate that I am very aware of. I remember the details about it in a way few other foods or pleasures evoke. As an adolescent, fearing myself fat and ugly, I swore off chocolate and pretended to hate it. I consumed it only in secret and was even ashamed to buy it - certain that the cashiers would be thinking to themselves- there, you see why she is so fat and ugly? It's because she eats all that chocolate. While not the prettiest child, I never was fat but merely a victim of media influence and low self-esteem. If only I had known about the healing powers of chocolate. NPR and a bunch of nurses can't be wrong.
My connection to chocolate has since changed dramatically. I have developed a taste for the dark, bitter, pure form of chocolate (the kind that is actually good for you as opposed to the candy bar kind that just adds calories and sugar to the diet.) Yes, I have become something of a chocolate connoisseur - a sure sign of being grown-up and a necessity in Congo, where bad chocolate can be found by the multitude and good chocolate costs a hefty 3-5,000 franc. If I am going to spend $5 on a chocolate bar, it better be good- and good for me.
The most important, and secretly delicious, thing that has changed in my relationship with chocolate is the pace at which I consume it. I can actually eat a few squares and then save the rest for the next day. I have such vivid memories of asking my mom (queen hoarder of treats and personal yummies) if she was going to eat that and wondering if she really wanted it why didn't she just eat it now?
There are few moments in life when I feel like a bona fide grown up. Having a job and going to work every day isn't all that much different than when I was younger (and I am a teacher- sooooo, I'm still going to the same place, still learning, still reading and writing every day.) Having a house just means I keep cleaning and cooking- things I've been doing since I was 10 at least. And children? Well, I've always been around children, taking care of them, playing with them, learning from them. None of these things have made me feel much like I've crossed the line from youth to maturity.
Being able to save a candy bar for the next day? Bingo. Now I know I'm an adult. But, ever looking for deeper meaning as I do, I understand the real reason behind my new found restraint. Patience. Growing older has allowed my to cultivate my ability to have patience, to savor life's moments and truly process them without giving in to reckless emotion. I don't need to devour my chocolate in 3 bites but have discovered it tastes better, in fact, when I draw out the pleasure, take small nibbles and truly enjoy each moment with my treat.
I used to think giving in to emotion was where passion stemmed from and that losing that would mean the death of dreams. Oh, my youth. I am beginning to understand- and it's just an inkling mind you, because I am aware there are many out there who will regard my numeric age with a mirthful grin and call me a 'young'un' - but I am beginning to understand the connection between passion and patience and what it truly means to patience.
Taking time to let remarks settle and find the best way to respond- or perhaps not to respond at all. Understanding when it is possible to reveal deep emotions in an effort to strengthen a relationship and when it is better to simply move forward accepting the relationship at the level it's on. Determining when it is possible to forgive and if not, how to forge a new path that doesn't bring hurt or shame to either party. Maturity is more than an age, but having practice and experience certainly helps. Because patience isn't easy to come by. Not the kind of patience that leads to serenity of being. Nor the kind of patience that allows one to focus on gratefulness and let go of the need to be in control. The patience that leads to passion needs time to ruminate and develop. I'm definitely getting there. And saving my chocolate is as good a first step as any.
