Anthony Bourdain Fed Our Souls
He FED us. This is why we love him so. Anthony Bourdain gave us FOOD, the medicine of connection, of raw authenticity, of genuine compassion and curiosity. He BROKE BREAD with all of us: poor, rich, famous and common folk. He circled around tables, squatted on floors, poured cultured liquids into simple bowls then did what magical people do: opened his heart and soul into the communion with others.
He inspired the world using the most holy rituals of all: sharing food. And in this country, where humans are STARVING to be fed, he made our mouths water for MORE. Not so much the native dish or exquisite morsel, but that sacred way of gathering the people in unison around a table, a mat or even on a boat to give the real offerings of conversation through story telling, humor, love and seasoned wisdom. Everyone was seen and heard and he, the conductor of peace, truth offerings and love to soothe the aching hearts.
In communities where sharing food is a daily practice, he was the guest who added depth and realness to their intact cultures, rich in history and meaning. He put these golden cultures on an altar so all could witness how different is truly glorious. We got to witness how others ate, what they ate and why Anthony found it all so mesmerizing and beautiful. There was no judgement. All were welcome to his table. The walls were torn down and an invite to join was held with an open palm.
In this country where we are flooded with food resources, we are STARVING. Sick and nearly dead, overweight or undernourished or severely addicted. The ritual of breaking bread is hidden in the small corners where love lives in warm homes smelling of bread and scattered roses. We gave up the luxury of communion at a table when we signed up for the BIG LIGHTS, action and the AMERICAN DREAM. We flipped channels while the "meal" buzzed in the microwave and children sit isolated in their rooms with the big screen TV while they suck the last noodle of mac and cheese from the paper plate. Anthony FED the American soul in despair. He gave hope of maybe...one day. One day we will feel satiated of soul and body. Maybe.
How can we NOT love a man who loved to feed people and bless them with his inner world of tall tales and fantastical musings? How can we NOT love a man who is willing to travel the world to bring YOU to the table where perfection and "brand" polishing isn't invited? How can we NOT weep for a soul taken too soon because really...who could replace him?
His gift was not the food.
It was him.
It was his realness, his authentic voice and presence.
It was his bravery to be raw. To be open. To be courageous.
His gift was the opening of every door, gilded or splintered, to let in other wandering souls. He was inclusive. So not what this country we live in is by any means.
His gift was showing us what we are missing in our homes, in our neighborhoods, in our lives. How deeply we all need to break bread. To invite the neighbor. To beckon the friend. To savor the soul while we sip on the elixirs. To eat with love with the lover, the saddened and the truly ecstatic.
He brought in sensual INTIMACY through food. He made us feel alive and delicious in ever cell of our being. In exchange for the blatant obvious sexual overtones of a culture hyped on the act of sex, food provides a doorway to coming into the body with the delights of a wet spoon, sauces dripping down the side of your favorite Le Creuset pot, the way the spice stains your fingers and the fluid motion of the hand feeding a ripe and ravenous mouth. If we pay attention, if we come IN to the kitchen, all of earths euphoria will await us with a regal nod whispering...eat me dear one. Seriously...come ON! Who needs the rotted traps of the weak version of sexy when THIS sits waiting for you in your kitchen? Anthony showed us euphoria through a heated stove and we dove in, starving from a lack of robust, throbbing intimacy.
A truth seeker he is OPPOSITE of the world wide elites. Of the governments crumbling shamelessly in pathetic vulgarity. He is the OPPOSITE of hyper glossy celebrities and the filth-laden rich, the fake af fuckers pretending that RICH means money and thingy things.
When we can break away from the stupid ass story of what we thought we were supposed to do here and instead come IN, IN, IN to become REAL, we too can begin to FEED the soul hungry beings running aimlessly in the dark.
So in honor of this man I suggest we...
Clear the table.
Put a flower in a vase.
Set an extra place setting.
Make a meal, either grand or simple.
And bring that human, you know the one, and invite them over.
Soul to soul.
Bread crumbs spilling.
And share the grace...
Rest in sweet peace Anthony.
You did good on earth...