A few weeks ago, I was waiting in the reception of a large consultancy, together with a few other people… We were sharing our space in that typical big-city way, where the done thing is to avoid eye contact, and stare pointedly at a newspaper or one of the free magazines on offer, while waiting for our respective meeting partners to come and sign us in.
It was a rainy Friday morning, and all of us were, I guess, also going through the encroaching end to our working weeks, and looking forward to the weekend.
At one point, the kindly receptionist broke the spell by offering us all a Kit-kat, from the pyramid of chocolate treats that she was artfully arranging in front of her. The usual conversation followed: oh I couldn’t possibly, it’s far too early for chocolate, are you really sure… but the offer of sharing of food broke the spell, and suddenly created a community.
We all started chatting – around our love of Kit-kats or otherwise – and it turned out that a new temp that was starting that morning had a passionate love of food and cooking, which she inherited from her grandmother; the rather forlorn-looking pinstripe-suit man (there for an interview?) turned out to be a part-time cook in an old people’s home; while I reminisced how both of my grandmothers used baking to express love, and how certain smells still take me straight back to childhood!
And it reminded me of the simplicity of connecting over a shared love of food: something so simple as sharing a chocolate bar caused a true connection of human spirit, and we were suddenly – and briefly – all witnessing each other’s life journeys.
A similar thing recently happened at the networking club I belong to: one of the receptionists was leaving, and instead – or rather, in addition to – traditional leaving drinks, she cooked us all a big ‘meze-type’ meal from her home country. It was the first time in about 4 months that I’d been going to that club that people actually chatted to strangers over shared plates, rather than just coming in for their meetings, or staring intently at their laptops.
Once again, I’m reminded of the beauty of real-time, real-life, sense-filled connection, which at the moment can’t seem to be replicated in the digital world. For all the shared jokes and video clips – and yes, some of them involving food – computer-based social connection still seems to be missing the simplicity, smells and tastes of the shared food experience.
Hi
It is said that during a shared meal, the body produces the hormone Oxytocin.
Interestingly enough, this is the same hormone that helps a labour (birth) to progress.
So it is a hormone that is at the heart of life’s great miracles.
Cool huh?
When I found this fact out, on a pregnancy yoga course last year, it explained a lot! In the sense that I never like to eat alone. If my husband puts out my food I wait until he puts out his – I LOVE to eat with him, and with others.
And Ana, what did WE do – you and I? We shared a meal just the day before yesterday (30th April), and it was beautiful, as are you, as is this website.
I will give birth in the coming weeks and I hope I get drunk on Oxytocin and have a spiritual and profound birth.
Lots and lots of love and luck for your future success.
Liska xxx