My father is an interesting character. One whom cannot be explained in words. But apparently, my husband, Zach, and I must be as well. When my father has an idea or something that may seem weird, he calls us. Not my mom or sister or my brother, who is probably too busy, but us. Probably because he knows we’ll say yes. We’ll say yes to hunting adventures. Drone lessons. Trying new meats and things. So when my father got a whole goat, he called us to see if we wanted to partake. Of course! In this country it may seem odd, but we are actually the only country to consume so much cow’s milk and meat. Most of the world drinks goat’s milk or eats goat. We have to learn to get over our initial reaction of trying something new. Of the anticipation. I have learned this in life, the anticipation is often worse than actual experience. We build everything up in our heads before hand, so when it comes time to do something new, eat something different, or have what we think is a conversation, it is actually a relief when it’s not as bad as we thought.
When I went sky-diving I was so focused on not anticipating. I had told myself my whole life that I was terrified of heights. I have vivid memories, passionately saying sky-diving was nuts and I would NEVER do it. And then I grew into this time of my life, where I worked really hard on tearing down walls. Of letting go of the limiting perspective I had of myself. Someone told me they were going sky-diving and I jumped, I WILL go with you. And we arrived. Every time I caught myself imaging or anticipating how being in that doorway would feel and the first leap, I would catch myself and stop. I got in that plane and I just did it. I didn’t think about how it would feel, I only experienced how it actually felt. Presence, this was huge for me. Learning to live in the now. Being able to catch myself and change my perspective in the moment. This is when I stopped holding myself back. I caught myself in fear and conditioned behavior. And I changed it.
I’ve had to do this with food. I grew up a picky eater. My m Continue reading “Roast Goat Shoulder”