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Kansas City MO 64131






Cindy Maddera


I saw these cherries at the Farmer's Market on Saturday and even though I'm not a big fan of them, I couldn't resist buying them. They were so shiny and pretty and I could get rid of them in one swoop by putting them in a pie. And that's what I did. Sunday afternoon, I started a really boring Willem Dafoe (oxymoron) and sat down to pit the cherries for the pie. I don't have one of those fancy tools for pitting cherries. I don't see the point of getting one just to use once every two years or so. I just used a pairing knife. Messy. A little time consuming. But not difficult. I would slice down the seam of the cherry, pull it apart and pluck out the seed. It was a very meditative action, like knitting or prayer beads. This continued as I made the dough for the pie crust, first mixing together the flour and butter with a pastry cutter and then latter with my hands as I added the water. Not too much water, just enough to make it all stick together.  The whole process became a meditation.

How to make a cherry pie

This seemed fitting since I've actually gotten back into the practice of daily meditation. Sort of. I've gotten up half an hour earlier every morning this week, so I'd have 20 minutes of practice before breakfast. Our move wrecked my original meditation practice. I never really got back on track. It would happen in spurts, but it was never consistent. This week I've been consistent enough to think about buying a new meditation journal. I will admit that Wednesday morning was particularly challenging. I had worked hard on my yoga mat the day before and then pulled weeds all around the front of my house. By the time I went to bed Tuesday night, my right side was achy. Then I tossed and turned, stretching and moving my hip this way and that, before giving up and taking something for my pain. So 5:30 AM Wednesday morning was not easy and settling into my practice was not easy. My chitta vritti had already started and was working out the best way to paint and decorate the bedroom.  But I sat there until my timer chimed because I  know this is a practice and sometimes that practice is listening to the mind chatter instead of trying to shoo it away.

And I'm also aware that this practice takes many shapes and forms. Happy Love Thursday.