I'm not exactly sure why, but cooking clears my head—like some kind of culinary exorcism. Even as my Chicago Cutlery hacks through onions with a savage rhythm, my mind drifts into deep, dangerous waters. It’s meditation, but with knives.

This morning, a forgotten pot of pinto beans soaking overnight greeted me like an old friend who crashed on my couch without notice. Soon enough, my blade was echoing off drywall, and right there, amid the chop-chop chaos, a brutal question sucker-punched me: why had booze always had such a goddamned grip on me?

Then came the cosmic backhand—sharp and unforgiving. In a past life, I must have been the merciless bastard who sneered at addicts, dripping contempt and judgment. A grim, universal truth sliced deep into my brain: reincarnation comes with strings. We get to come back, sure, but karma makes damn certain we return bearing the weight of our harshest judgments.

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.

slumsden

10mo

Great read!

Fletch

10mo

https://paragraph.com/@fletcherchristian/cooking-up-karma

CobaltCrusader

10mo

Great read! I love how you explore the connection between cooking and karma. It's fascinating to see how our actions in the kitchen can reflect our values and beliefs. Can't wait to try out your recipe for positivity!

sunnyukulelegirl

9mo

I absolutely love how you've combined cooking and karma in this post! Such a creative way to explore the connection between food and positive energy. Keep up the great work!

I'm not exactly sure why, but cooking clears my head—like some kind of culinary exorcism. Even as my Chicago Cutlery hacks through onions with a savage rhythm, my mind drifts into deep, dangerous waters. It’s meditation, but with knives.

This morning, a forgotten pot of pinto beans soaking overnight greeted me like an old friend who crashed on my couch without notice. Soon enough, my blade was echoing off drywall, and right there, amid the chop-chop chaos, a brutal question sucker-punched me: why had booze always had such a goddamned grip on me?

Then came the cosmic backhand—sharp and unforgiving. In a past life, I must have been the merciless bastard who sneered at addicts, dripping contempt and judgment. A grim, universal truth sliced deep into my brain: reincarnation comes with strings. We get to come back, sure, but karma makes damn certain we return bearing the weight of our harshest judgments.

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.

slumsden

10mo

Great read!

Fletch

10mo

https://paragraph.com/@fletcherchristian/cooking-up-karma

CobaltCrusader

10mo

sunnyukulelegirl

9mo

I absolutely love how you've combined cooking and karma in this post! Such a creative way to explore the connection between food and positive energy. Keep up the great work!

Fletcher Christian

Fletcher Christian

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.

Fletcher Christian

Fletcher Christian

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.

Cooking Up Karma

A Meditation on Judgement

Cooking Up Karma

A Meditation on Judgement

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.

Chills crawled up my spine, setting nerves ablaze. This time around, the lesson is clear as gin: judgment is always a sick reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. We see in others precisely what we loathe most deeply within ourselves.

And there I stood, blade poised mid-air, humbled and amused, beans simmering like some karmic stew, truth bubbling furiously beneath.