In the weeks leading up to Eid I was in a kind of fog, I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that it was Eid again. Life has been busy and I felt unprepared to shift into this other mode. Buying a sheep, buying enough supplies to last us through the 10-day souk hiatus that follows Eid, tracking down something bright and happy to wearh (times 5), giving some thought to decorations and presents (again?), making plans to see tribe members (in our case, other than family our tribe is an ever-shifting crew of family-less souls that share our lives at the moment). But amazingly, we managed to do these things, and they didn’t do us in. It flowed busily but peacefully into this blessed day. And I have managed to shift into that other mode, because you just can’t help but emerge into full consciousness at the sacrifice of an animal. Oh, I remember now what this is all about! I’m always amazed at how the most powerful spiritual experiences come from pattern interruption. This Eid reminds me of the ultimate pattern interruption, death, only a breath away.
But as much as I like to ponder symbolism, Eid is no time to daydream. It’s time to roll up your sleeves and get to work. Today I felt like we were a pioneer family, all of us working to do our part. Even the children were eager to help with the skinning, the gutting, etc. When I saw my five year old chopping liver with a butcher knife I got this feeling like, yeah, maybe we could survive in the wild after all. These kids are not squeemish.
A beautiful morning that brings the promise of rain.
I know we had some other kids somewhere…I’ll just have to photoshop them in later.
Veggies on the grill, on Eid? Psych!
The little assembly line I set up for myself: marinating the liver and wrapping it in fat to make kabobs with. It sounds awful but it’s such a big hit with the kids. The fat keeps the liver from drying out on the grill.
He leaves the rest of us no excuse, methinks.
Entertainment for the night, a light saber show. Feeling the force today.