I have food cravings. I particularly crave big globs of gooey peanut butter one spoonful at a time – so comforting. It so soothes the savage beast and quiets the hungry heart; at least for awhile. The fix is fleeting, temporary, elusive. Soon, the craving begins again, the longing for comfort, the filling of the void – whatever it is that triggers the craving, here it comes again.

Being quite sick of this craving getting the best of me – I devised a plan! I wanted to more deeply understand what peanut butter represented to my internal world, why it was so important, what it meant. I wanted to get present with was so that I could really begin to address the issue from a place of wisdom and clarity rather than from the bottom of a peanut butter jar. So, here’s what I did . . .

I took the great forbidden food, sat down to meditate and placed the peanut butter jar and spoon in front of me. It felt important to have the actual food so that the senses were engaged as well as the imagination. I closed my eyes, took a few minutes to open my heart and really bring the witness forward to facilitate the proceedings. Then, I imagined a great round table with many chairs around it. I sat the jar of peanut butter in the middle of the table and invited anyone that was interested to come join me at the table. One by one, their interest piqued, they showed up. When it seemed that all of those who wanted to come were around the table, I started the proceedings. I took a spoonful of peanut butter and rolled it around in my mouth, then spoke a few words about what I was feeling and what peanut butter meant to me. And so it went, sticky spoonful by sticky spoonful, each aspect took a turn with the peanut butter, attempting to tell some sort of truth about themselves. It was meaningful to hear each of them speak – it often wasn’t about the peanut butter at all. With few exceptions, the sharing was more about the individual suffering then the love of peanut butter.

I crave less now. It’s quieter now. The edges have softened and the ravenous hunger has settled down. What remains is the 10 year old who is always – and perhaps forever – convinced that love lies in the bottom of a peanut jar!