Never Cut the Bread
by Gloria Lionz
This was written several years ago; tweaked in 2021. It’s a traditional piece I now read aloud most Thanksgivings.
The words came to me while I was in the midst of divorce. Part of that change required me to leave the home I’d owned with that spouse. It was tough to let go of a place I’d loved and shared with many close friends and family for over a decade.
A few weeks before Thanksgiving, I’d rented a home with another divorcee. She had family to spend Thanksgiving with, but at that juncture, I had “no one.”
A month before Thanksgiving, a group of fellow poets gathered to share our latest work. Each month a few avid writers would meet at a member’s home to read our work aloud, make constructive comments and celebrate one another’s evolution. While at our hostess’ home that November, she asked how each of us planned to celebrate “Turkey day.”
Everyone had plans but me. No big deal. I’m a grown-up; I would “manage.” But that was not to be. Our gracious fellow poet and hostess looked at me and said, “Well looks like you’re joining us.” “Us” included her parents, a girlfriend, and a sister visiting from another state.
I was grateful; I’m a people person so spending that day alone wasn’t natural for me. She didn’t want any additions to the dinner feast; so I decided to bring a new poem. When I sat down to listen, “Never Cut the Bread” seamlessly arrived. It’s a philosophy I’d always lived. As the phrases landed on paper, my heart felt it’s center taking shape again.
That’s when I realized my version of home was far more portable than I’d ever imagined. It didn’t require the ‘best dinnerware, candlelight or a major feast prepared by me. This poem has since become my way of celebrating my life and the lives of those who peopled it every year. Since 2013, it’s traveled with me all over the world; from Mexico, to New York, to California, Hawaii, and Miami.
What I now know for sure is small rituals intentionally shared are key to feeling at ease wherever I find myself. They remind me and those I share it with that “home” is wherever we seat our heart’s attention, that love resides on the inner, and that belonging is the result by how we relate and nurture one another – any time, anywhere.
One never knows where Spirit will take us on any given day. But when traveling with poems touched by love, the joy of belonging thrives.
NEVER CUT THE BREAD…
Never cut the bread
before the guests arrive
This is my sacred creed,
a friendship ritual
Life races through calendars
Stripping away the ability to notice,
Do I “want” something ~
or need it?
What is nurturance after all
but the ceremony of sustenance?
When I move beyond habit,
clocks invite me to relax.
And as I slice the bread for friends
baked dough turns into
conversation, laughter, and
the sound of hearts touching.
This is the gift that seeds
memories worth savoring…
Kindness sprouting into warmth
Life affirming life.
© Gloria Lionz
November 2013