1,000 Calorie Cake
Yesterday I had the rare treat of sharing lunch with dad and brother at the same table. How fun!
We went to Macaroni Grill and I ordered the warm spinach salad. (With garlic and goat cheese – mm mm!!)
But I only ate half to save room for dessert: “rich chocolate cake topped with homemade ganache and pecan pieces” with chilled whipping cream on the side. Seriously, the description doesn’t do it justice – it’s delish!
Dad orders some lemon cake thing that sounds good, but I know he’s gonna wish he had chocolate.
My brother doesn’t order dessert; I’m thinking it’s because he’s happy to share ours.
The fabulous waitress brings two desserts and three forks and I can hardly believe how mouth-watering the cake looks.
(I’m such a smart girl to have only eaten half my salad! And what was dad thinking?! Lemon? Sure it’s good, but compared to chocolate?! Oh my. Rookie move, dad.)
Dad and I offer to share with brother, but he fends off yet another invitation by responding with a finger pointed to my cake, as if it were poison straight from the devil, “This is 1,000 calories” and pointing to dad’s, “That’s 200.”
For a moment my head spun.
He knows the calorie counts?! That’s bad enough. Even worse: he cares?!
It spins even more when it registers: wait, this cake is a thousand calories? Oh, that sounds like a lot.
Who brainwashed my brother into believing chocolate cake or 1,000 calories are bad things?! Did his skinny wife trick him into not enjoying food any more?!
Apparently so. He’s not having even a single bite. He’s for real.
Did he die and go to hell?
Or maybe is an alien?
Or … was my brother the only smart one at the table?
Maybe I was a bad influence, running amok in life.
His wife is very thin, even after five kids. Is that how she does it?
I thought about it today as I finished the rest of my (now deliciously cold) spinach salad. (He was right that it would keep well.) I realized that chocolate cake was important enough to me that even if 1,000 calories were a bad thing – I’m on board.
But it made me wonder, what am I vibrating that I can share a table with someone who judges 1,000 calories and deprives himself of the pleasure of chocolate cake? (Or even lemon cake, if chocolate doesn’t float his boat.)
Which, I will say, dad did eat half the chocolate cake. Told you so.
We know how this works – if I see it in another, that means I’ve got it in me. And if I’m depriving myself of life’s pleasures, I want to know about it!
It made me think of Abraham’s track the other day about how if you’re surrounded by needy people, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re needy, too, but that you do have needy activated somehow. Maybe it’s that you strongly don’t want to be around needy people. Either way, somehow needy is activated in you.
So, what was I sensing at the lunch table? Judging and deprivation. How might I be flowing that?
And if to you that sounded wise and willpowery, that just goes to show we don’t have the same vibes flowing. Or the same taste in dessert.
Easy answer once I looked: I was judging someone who seemed to be depriving life pleasure.
Enjoyment is one of my core values. There’s not a dog’s head I’m not gonna scratch when I pass by, or a single great song I’m not singing out loud when I feel the urge, nor a fabulous rain storm that doesn’t make me say, “gosh, what a gorgeous day!” when I skip out to check the mail.
Which means I’m likely gonna get wet, I might get fat (if I believe in 1,000 calories) and I’m certainly going to embarrass myself singing out loud.
My tombstone should maybe read: “She loved life!” If it says that, I went to my grave a happy girl.
So instead of judging my brother as the poor guy who doesn’t let himself enjoy 1,000 calorie cake, I’m going to practice some live and let live.
Like Abraham says, life’s a buffet. We’re not all gonna do it the same way, and we’ll enjoy it way more when we don’t blame others for their choices.
So he’s not wrong for skipping dessert; the terrorists aren’t wrong for blowing up buildings; the child molesters aren’t wrong for .. dang, that one trips me up every time.
But I get the gist and I see my chance. To love life even more by letting others do it their way. There’s no right, no wrong … just more cake for me.