Jam Jams are my Jam


I was at a meeting this Winter when a groovy lady sporting a Doors t-shirt and a high ponytail confidently took the floor.  Looking like she had stolen the show at some cool company like Apple or Patagonia, she shunned the podium, walked right onto the middle of the floor and asked, “So guys, what’s your jam?  

She posed the question to us in a way that was more musical than quizzical.  In fact, she leaned into the question, almost as if she needed an electric guitar to accompany her words.  

While the whole group pondered this quirky question in hushed silence, asking themselves what was it in this big giant super world that they were most interested in, all I could think of was my dinner.    As much as the linear part of my mind pleaded with me, implored me, to think about social justice and writing books and meeting monks, thoughts of the lunch bag sitting at my feet parked themselves firmly in my head....along with bread, and mashed potatoes and salt fish and bologny.  In other words all I could think of was food.

Good food.

We live in a time when the meaning attached to food is tremendous and oddly meaningful.   Food is much more than the sustenance and energy required to physically satisfy the calorie-hungry human body.  It anchors conversations, stimulates debate and amplifies status. Have you ever had a conversation with a former lover of sour cream and onion ruffles who has grown fond of kale chips?

I understand the act of attaching tremendous meaning to food. I understand it intimately. I think we all do.  Sit back during your next feed of Jigg’s dinner and soak in the congeniality and good cheer that swirls joyously as plates filled with steaming vegetables and salt meat are shared.  Remember your first cup of tea of the day accompanied by a thick, buttery slice of toast. Earlier today, we gathered at work to celebrate an upcoming retirement.  Front and centre, vying for attention amidst a sea of celery and cherry tomatoes, was a round, dense, sweet chocolate cake with chocolate icing.  

So, what’s your jam, she asked. My jam

Is joy.  And that joy is created by so many things big and small, including food and certainly including jam jams!

Dear readers we are heading off into the world once again this week, including a little trip to Medjugorje in Bosnia. Keep an eye out!


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