I recently went to a smoothie workshop run by Life Elements. In search of some food and lifestyle changes to help replenish an overburdened adrenal system, the workshop reignited my love of natural whole foods.

It was time for food to help me become whole again.

Yesterday, I went to Naturally on High in Thornbury and purchased all the ingredients for my dream smoothie.

As this was my first ever non ordinary smoothie (you know… the berry/yoghurt/banana ones… ho hum), I thought it a great chance to do my ten minute mindfulness workout while preparing and drinking the goodliness of my creation. The aim was to let any other thoughts that popped into my head, go.

If I thought about my creative projects, people, to do lists, not to do lists… they were gone. There was just going to be me, a collection of ingredients, knife and my blender. And those taste buds had better be ready for a serious new taste sensation.

Chop. Measure. Grind. Pour. Slice. “I can’t believe I’m putting in an entire packet of spinach.”

Given the state of my life for the past few months, Mindful in May has come at a very appropriate time. As I separate the parts of my life and begin to plan for some exciting new ventures, I actually feel like I’m in some ways combining all the parts of my life to create one very delicious, wholesome, energising future.

But back to the spinach – seriously, a whole packet. Did mindfulness manage to help me savour the flavours of my green concoction?

I felt like my mouth was the backdrop for a Batman and Robin scene… there were so many kapows going on inside. I’d put just enough cacao to give a hint of chocolate, the banana helped balance the spinach, the coconut water and butter made me feel like I was back in Thailand and the nutty sunflower and almond islands floating with their date cousins added a dash of exotic surprises. Each mouthful was savoured, slurped slowly and swallowed softly.

Those wandering thoughts that intended to sabotage my green goodliness were gently told farewell, come again another day.

As I washed up the blender, I realised how much I’d probably missed every morning meal I’ve ever eaten. I like to sleep in. I usually rush around. I hate being late. I’m always at work or meetings on time. But I’d never sat down and mindfully consumed any breakfast. I need to eat, read the paper, plan for the day, think of the person I didn’t call yesterday and remember who I had to meet tomorrow. Who has time to think about the taste of their poached eggs, rolled oats, cocoa pops or bacon and egg mcmuffins?

Tonight as I write this post, I think the mindfulness smoothie creation and tasting helped me to slow down my entire day. I didn’t commence the day in a rush. I didn’t think about anything I had to do. And yet, I managed to get everything on my list done, make an awesome slow-cooked vegetable soup, bake banana bread, send a concept submission for two creative projects to a publisher, get to the gym and commence planning for the next few months. And have one seriously energising drink that tasted just too darn good to be filled with spinach.

I owe it to you mindful smoothie. You were such a smooth operator of stillness in the morning, I was so much more proactive than I have been in months.

This could be an interesting month.

you bloody ripper!

This post is part of my series for the Mindful in May challenge.

And what was in it : a few dashes of coconut water, a nice dollop of coconut butter, a little maca/cacao blend, few drops of agave, two dates, half a banana, crushed sunflower seeds and almonds, super big dash of almond milk and yes… a whole packet of spinach!

Today I bought nuts instead of chocolate.

you bloody ripper!

Cheese is my nemesis.

I can usually fight off its temptation on the twice weekly shop at the local markets.

However, when there’s a symphony orchestra, olives, dips, a picnic blanket, grass and a bottle of vino on the agenda, temptation takes control.

Imagine my surprise when the cooler is opened, and there is a hunk of camembert. And to think I made every effort to foil the evil nemesis from entering my mouth by not bringing a knife.

Vino. Water crackers. Myki card. Orchestra DVD.

Superhero must have slept in yet again. Cheese: 2200. Tina: 0.

you bloody ripper!

One of my favourite trips down memory lane is to when I was young, spending the weekend with Grandma cooking up chocolate cake, date loaf, scones and all types of gooey goodness.

I would fight off all other converging fingers to scrape the bottom of the bowl and the wooden spoon across the base of the saucepan filled with homemade custard crust never failed to disappoint.

Today, I made chocolate cake.

Today, I was eight all over again.

you bloody ripper!

Mangoes are at their peak right now and between you and me, I’ve become a little obsessive.

Not only are they filled with Vitamin C, anti-oxidants, fibre, anti-stress vitamins and a whole heap of goodly minerals, they can even help your sex life. True fact. They’re abundant in Vitamin E, a great booster for the sex drive.

Ancient Indian sages prescribed planting the mango for the salvation of souls: I’m hoping eating a copious amount over a lifetime will have the same effect.

I’ve got two more months to suck it real good.

Tissue anyone…. I’m dribbling.

you bloody ripper!

So I don’t have a tv. With part-time work, studying for two diplomas and planning the website I visioned three years ago, there is no time for staring at a box.

Whilst living in Asia for almost 3 years, I was known to go into the kitchen of many local restaurants, market stalls and village homes. And not just because I couldn’t read the menu.

I wanted to learn. Basic. Fresh. Traditional. Simple. Delicious.

Many a time I sat and helped. Peeling the stringy outer of pumpkin vines. Soaking dried mushrooms. Splitting almonds. Stuffing tofu. Slicing lotus root. Plucking chickens.

I love food. I love to get my hands into the food. I love watching people passionate about food. I appreciate a degustation menu and savour the flavours of a simple slow-cooked broth.

I was in need of some nourishment. Off to my favourite market in Melbourne for some Asian flavours. In the afternoon at Box Hill, it is easy to imagine oneself back in Beijing, and not simply because of its large Asian community.

Persimmons, lychees, lotus root, purple spinach, water spinach, watercress, bamboo shoot, kaffir lime leaves, curry leaves, a plethora of mushrooms, tofu and herbs beckon with their exotic aromas, to select and fill one’s basket to overflowing. It smells of Asia. And the last minute stallholder cry of ‘bags for $1′takes me home.

With an extra workload than I’d planned, a little weariness had descended into my life. So the perfect remedy was a herbal chicken soup. With a market bag filled with fresh vegetables, free range chicken, chinese dates, lycium, longans, astragalus, ginseng and goji berries, this soup was definitely packed with ancient remedies and goodness.

If you ever wondered why chicken soup is good for the soul, perhaps it is because it is filled with natural carnosine, a potent anti-oxidant that prevents cell damage and improves cell function. The Chinese also believe that it nourishes the qi, our natural energy flow.

Goodness knows mine was stagnating. And I needed it to floweth.

So whether chicken soup has the placebo effect of all good food, or its ancient curative powers are based on proven medical research, I don’t really mind.

Dice. Slice. Wash. Peel. Soak. Clean. Chop. Slow cook.

Home made. Hand made. Made with soul.

Ah… that feels better now.

you bloody ripper!

When is the last time you indulged yourself?

When is the last time you paused to observe something you do every day?

Today, why don’t you  take notice of something small and see what temporary awe feels like.

you bloody ripper!

It’s bigger!

Definitely more greens!

Sweet glaze!

Smells so good!

Tastes awesome!

YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM!

you bloody ripper!

As you drag your weary feet towards the car after a full days shopping expedition, the gentle waft of deliciously scented smoke floats towards you.

The musical sizzle of hot fat calls you closer and as the circulation in your arm slowly gets cut off because of the colossal number of shopping bags, it is an unexplained force that draws you to the volunteers, waving at you with their tongs.

You figure it’s only two dollars and it’s going to a good cause, so you hand over the dosh and help yourself to lashings of tomato sauce and mustard.

The next thing you know you are walking to your car, juggling your shopping bags, a sausage in bread in one hand, tomato sauce slowly running down your wrist, and you find yourself smiling.

you bloody ripper!

Old Mother Hubbard

Went to the cupboard,

To give the poor dog a bone:

When she came there,

The cupboard was bare

And so the poor dog had none.

Hubbard, the moral of the story is:

Keep a tin of spaghetti in the cupboard!

you bloody ripper!