It’s snowy and cold, and I have a day off. What better things to do than make soup?

After all, the other day at the store, I found this organic, small red cabbage. The organic carrots would make Bugs Bunny salivate. And then I rounded the corner to see bison on sale. Oh, the signs were all there. After all, “life is symbolic. Start interpreting.” I’ve been interpreting for a while now, and I read those signs. They clearly said SOUP.

So this morning, I sliced the lovely red cabbage in two. I reached into the fridge to grab the carrots by their tops and turned back to the counter. I don’t think I’ve ever really noticed the pattern of a cabbage before. It stopped me cold. How beautiful! Almost Nautilus-like. I got the sense of growth and development, of every stage that cabbage went through in its life, reflected in its very pattern. There! A dry spell. And here, the perfect mix of sun and rain and soil.

It’s a little like my life, if I were to depict it as a mandala. There would be clear threads of many colors weaving through. There would be periods of disappointment laced liberally with laughter and love and light and accomplishment. There would be fulfillment, and there would be sadness. Sure, there would be frustration and anger, but always offset by comfort and contentment. Woven throughout, I’d like to think, would be gratitude.

My life as a mandala. Grateful for the symbolic insight of my little red cabbage today.