Eye See What You Did There

As the first post of this little experiment of mine, I thought I would explain a few things.

One, this is a blog that is dedicated to a single goal: I shall step out of the comfort zone, abandon the norm, and explore that which is unknown.

This particular goal for me is very tricky. I've already jumped straight out of my nice, normal, comfortable box and straight into a new lifestyle. This thing called "eating healthy, being healthy, thinking healthy" is about as 180 degrees as you could get from what I was doing before hand. So I've taken a vow of strict diets, working out, annoying friends by bailing on them when it looks like we might be heading somewhere where I could easily break said vows, and in general avoiding places that might be unhealthy. Bars that allow smoking and fast food restaurants are prime examples of places that I avoid like the plague.

Two, the name, Eating the Eye. Recently I shared another fine dinner with a friend of mine at Craigie on Main in Boston in which we were lucky enough to reserve a pigs head - well, half of one at least. And my dining partner, Julie, was kind enough to allow me the pleasure of eating the eye.

Again.

You see, during an initial pilgrimage to this fine establishment in October 2010, I had the opportunity to eat the eye. As Julie can attest, eating the eye was an event unto itself, and a major stepping stone in my life.

So, eye number two is a special mark. You see, I ate this one knowing full well what would happen, the textures I would feel, the delicious pork flavors that would come out at varying strengths. Though this time I did cut it in half as an entire eye at once can be...overwhelming, as I had found out in October.

So eating the eye is what I have termed the of boldly going where one has not gone before, daring to do something that mentally may be challenging, and yet, clearly, will not kill you.

Well, actually there might be a bit of potential death, but I like to chalk that all up to calculated risk. See: foie gras, skydiving, Brussels sprouts sauteed in duck fat, anything cooked in duck fat for that matter, road racing, arguments about politics and finance with energetic folks I know, etc.

Third, I do plan on using the blog as a bit of a pedestal to express life lessons as I learn them, and I already have a prime example of a life lesson.

Again, in Boston, this time back in October, I had the chance to explore the city at my whim. One day I traveled on foot around downtown Boston taking in the sights and sounds, exploring the cultures and histories that have been mashed together in such comfortable quarters, and ended the day on top of the Marriott Custom House hotel, which has an observation deck above the clock tower. It's about 26 stories up, if that gives you an idea of the height. It was there, in the relative peace and quiet of a bustling city far below me, with the pain in my feet from walking all day without proper arch support, a steady wind blowing that was fresh and clear from the cool Atlantic, that I learned a lesson.

If you take a moment to sit back and examine the chaos that is life, you might spot a pattern that you didn't know existed, one that intrigues you and might even make you want to take a few more moments to examine more of that chaos. Eventually, it might even become an insatiable desire to know the world around you beyond the covers presented to the public, and to dive in and scream "give me all you've got, I can take it. But I may need to cut it in half first."

That unyielding need to examine that chaos and all of its facets while crying out for more is just the first step to eating the eye.