/ 26 April 2018

Ssh! I’m cooking up a storm

The practice made me conscious of how much of my time is spent in a state of constant overstimulation.
The practice made me conscious of how much of my time is spent in a state of constant overstimulation.

One of the truest things my mother says about me is that my relationship with food is one of the healthiest in my life. She isn’t wrong. I’m deeply committed to food. I love talking and learning about it, making and eating it. So when I came across a “mindful cooking, joyful eating” food retreat, I had to go.

Lalela, which means “a place of listening”, is a retreat on a farm near Magaliesburg, started by a couple, Maia and Niel, in 2017. Together, they host a range of retreats, for silent meditation, yoga, tai chi, writing and the one I attended, cooking. It promised interactive cooking lessons, mindful eating, walks in the veld, yoga, breathing and meditation.

I was swooning even before I got there — about the fact that I needed to follow written directions, because the place isn’t listed on Google Maps.

More often than not, meditation has been a struggle for me. I have consulted apps, YouTube tutorials and articles on the art of stilling your mind. But I could not have picked a better place to explore my relationship with food and meditation than Lalela.

The space is a gloriously simple, nostalgic structure. I found myself immediately thinking about my great-grandparents’ home in Zeerust in North West — unevenly plastered walls, sturdy poles holding up the corrugated zinc roof over the wrap-around verandah, polished concrete floors …

The main bathroom may be inside the house, and the place may boast a fancy double-door fridge and a dishwashing machine but the charm, the rudimentary furniture, the doors you have to jiggle a little — all of this sent me back to drinking sweet tea from a saucer while we sat on the stoep.

Lalela prompted us to practice mindfulness in what we ate and how it affects our body and mind. We explored vegan food with Parusha Naidoo, a chef whose cooking reminded us that “a plant-based diet doesn’t have to feel like deprivation. It can be diverse, kind, experimental and ultimately joyful.”

We learned to prepare different kinds of hummus, bean paste and falafels. We discovered the simple pleasure of chopped spinach or cabbage as a salad — as long it’s paired with a great homemade dressing.

Most of the meals we ate were prepared together and joyfully. Maia and Niel baked a different bread for us each day, which we ate with our harira soup or pudina chutney and Mexican black beans.

Every supper was followed with relaxation, meditation and music from some of the other guests — and then hours of practising silence. 
As a person who spends so much of my time alone, at home, I am innately comfortable with silence 
but intentional silence was a new experience.

The practice made me conscious of how much of my time is spent in a state of constant overstimulation. And, as corny as it sounds, there really was something about looking at the open sky that made me feel insignificant.

For the first time in months, my anxieties left the front of my mind. The reality of anxiety would return but the break I was offered that weekend is one I hope to internalise.

For more information visit lalela.place