Choices

It has been probably three years since I started practicing "doing what I want to do."
I threw away things I didn't like. I think there were times I even threw away things I liked just because they were old, but I don't do that anymore; I've realized it's okay to keep them.
I started buying only the things I like and truly need.
In my case, there were times I could find them and times I couldn't. When I did find them, I made sure to take the plunge and get them, even if they were expensive.

I've gradually become able to do this with material things, but with actions, it's difficult; I still have a long way to go.

I get trapped by habits. I realized that I was acting out of anxiety for the future—a few minutes, hours, or days away—thinking that if I didn't do this, I would be in trouble later.
I was able to do it a little two years ago, but lately, I feel like I haven't been able to, and it makes me restless.

But, I did it yesterday! And how pleasant that felt!

I truly look forward to and cherish my daily meals. (Thanks to the preparation for them, a gap has emerged between the actions I really want to do and the actions I do even though I don't have to...)

Yesterday, the plan was chestnut rice, boiled konjac balls, silken tofu and nameko mushroom stew, and a Chinese-style stir-fry of ham, bok choy, and tomatoes. I had ham, and I thought that with this menu, maybe I'd have chestnut shochu with hot water.
Everything except the stir-fry was just a matter of heating up, and when I finished cooking, the stir-fry looked surprisingly colorful and delicious. The aroma was practically calling for wine.
There was a wine in the fridge from a producer whose tasting I missed this year. Only one bottle had arrived; it was expensive for home drinking, and since it's a fairly popular producer, it would have sold if I had just kept it, but I really wanted to know what this year's vintage tasted like. The other cuvées had already found homes, so this was the only one left. I really love the label design. It has a slightly modern feel, like a painting of a meadow with little flowers scattered here and there.

It looked similar to the colors of the stir-fry.

Should I just open it?

I changed my plans from the chestnut shochu, thinking even one glass would be fine, and since I had decided to honestly do what my body was asking for today, I pulled the cork without hesitation.

I wrote down some tasting notes for next year just in case, and then dinner began.

It was delicious, just as I thought.

My son didn't seem to like the soup from the stir-fry. (I had made it a stir-fry with plenty of sauce.) Having already switched into wine-drinking mode, I traded my chestnut rice for the stir-fry and savored the happiness.
I even made udon with the leftover soup. I was having so much fun that I watched two dramas as well.

I don't know if I'll be able to honestly choose the actions I want to do tomorrow, too.

I live wanting to go out on sunny days, so I feel like I have to go out if it's sunny, but if my body is saying it wants to read at home, can I choose to read?
When I think about how it would be nice to peel the remaining chestnuts to put in pasta for dinner, or how it would be nice to have some shimeji mushrooms, and wonder if I can go buy them, but also want to work, or think that my body will feel stiff if I don't do yoga, what will I choose?

Intertwined: time, choices, habits, and what I really want to do.