Deck to Page #23
Deck: Mindful Souls – ‘Soul Bridges’
Category: PLAY = Dive into the fun, unexpected stuff
Prompt: What’s the food you usually refuse to share?
I had to think about this question for a while because I don’t really refuse to share food.
As a child, I was taught to share. If someone wanted a taste, you offered a bite. If there wasn’t enough to go around, you made it work. Sharing was simply part of how I was raised.
Even now, if my husband and I go out to eat and I order something I think he might enjoy, I’ll offer him a taste. Sometimes he does the same for me. That’s just part of what it means to eat together.
But offering a taste is different from surrendering half your meal.
When I order food, especially if I am excited about it, I ordered it because I wanted that meal. Before it even arrives, I’m already thinking about it — the first bite, the way it will taste, how satisfying it’s going to be. That anticipation is part of the experience. I am happy to let someone sample it, but after that, my food is my food.
If I had to choose one thing I am most protective of, it would probably be pizza.
Not a large pizza meant for sharing.
A personal pizza.
The kind that arrives with the understanding that every slice already has a destination.
Every slice has been mentally accounted for. There is something quietly satisfying about that — a small, complete thing that belongs entirely to you. No negotiation required. No wondering if there will be enough.
Lunch today. Maybe leftovers tomorrow. Perhaps that last slice saved for later when I’m craving it again.
Occasionally my husband will reach over and take a slice.
I won’t slap his hand away.
I won’t bite him.
I won’t even say no.
But I will absolutely give him the look.
You know the look.
The one that says, “I love you dearly, but that slice had a future.”
After twenty-five years, he knows exactly what the look means. He also knows it will pass. He takes the slice anyway, and honestly, the fact that he still does might be one of the reasons I’ve kept him around.
The funny thing is that this question made me realize that food isn’t really what I’m protecting. What I’m protecting is the expectation. I had a plan. I knew what belonged on my plate. When someone unexpectedly takes a piece, I have to adjust.
And if I’m honest, a long partnership is just that — a continuous series of adjustments, large and small. Somehow pizza became the place where I practice.
Fortunately, after twenty-five years together, I’ve become fairly good at adjusting.
Still…
If you see me with a personal pizza, just know that sharing is available, in very small portions, by request.
And if you take the last slice without asking, don’t be surprised if you get the look.
Reflection Question:
What is something small that you’re protective of — not because it’s valuable, but because it feels like yours?
Theresa
Flexible Being
Empowering Your Journey to Healing, Clarity, and Self-Discovery.
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Theresa Martinez-Shapiro
Theresa Martinez-Shapiro is the founder of Flexible Being, a Reiki Master, Certified Oracle Guide, intuitive mentor, and writer based in Stockton, California. Through Musings of a Flexible Being, she explores healing, mindfulness, relationships, intuition, and personal growth with a grounded yet spiritual approach.
