Refrigerator Judgement

My attempt to apply equanimity to the refrigerator judgement zone.

Sandy wants to help with this week’s post.

That's because it involves the refrigerator.

Sandy is very helpful when it comes to food.

Approaching the Refrigerator Judgement Zone

You might not think of cleaning your refrigerator as a non-judgment practice. Perhaps there is nothing in your fridge that triggers guilt or self-recrimination. If that is the case, I applaud you. You are a better person than I am.

You obviously are more organized and disciplined than me. You apparently have no mushy celery, no brown-green salad soup, no sketchy chicken lurking in your refrigerator.

For me, cleaning the fridge is an emotional roller coaster.

Facing the Waste

I judge myself for wasting money on food I didn't eat. Foolish!

Worse are the meals I prepared, spending both time and money but then I failed to eat it all.

Sandy judges me, too.

Sadness. Betrayal.

“You should have shared with me!”

Too late

There are moments of sadness when I find something absolutely delicious that I forgot was in there. And now it's too late.

Guilt, Guilt, and Guilt

There are guilty moments as I look at the trash can with all that wasted food.

My parents’ voices echo from the past:

“There are starving children . . . I don’t know . . .somewhere in the world. . .oh just eat your @%$@ dinner!” (Direct quote)

But there are hungry children and adults right in my own community. Yes, I make contributions to our local food bank but probably not enough.

A new approach

I am trying to be kinder to myself, to view my choices with equanimity. Can I somehow view this waste as neither good nor bad?

It goes against my upbringing, but let’s be honest: ten years of Catholic school is a lot of guilt.

Back to equanimity. I can learn from this.

Equanimity

I can learn to stop lying to myself about how many vegetables I'm going to eat.

I can stop telling me that I want a salad every night so I should buy two bags instead of one.

I can be grateful for the fact that not only could I afford this food but that I am not going to go hungry because I wasted it. That hasn't always been the case, so I am indeed grateful. (But it also activates my guilt.)

It could be an opportunity to organize better. Shop precisely. Plan meals and actually eat them.

So much potential for growth!

Or maybe it's just a chance for Sandy and I to bond over the beef is still safe but has lost its appeal.

I rinsed the sauce off of it and Sandy gets an extra treat.

P.S. Don't tell her I cut back her dog food tonight to make up for this indulgence. We’re trying to bond here!