I Can See Clearly Now...

I have been violated.

This morning, prior to The Incident, I innocently went about preparing my breakfast with care. I sliced generous portions of the healthy-sounding loaf of bread that I purchased last night, and I popped them into the toaster. As they toasted, I munched on an equally-healthy nectarine. The natural peanut butter and the locally-produced honey were retrieved from the cupboard, and when the toast jumped to attention I placed in on a clean white plate.

With pleasure, I watched the peanut butter melt into the warm, grainy bread as I spread it thickly. Taking a spoon from the drawer, I dipped it into the clear golden honey and drizzled a generous amount over the bread. Licking the spoon, I put everything away and carried my plate of delicious-looking toast to a chair.

With great anticipation, I lifted the toast to my mouth and took a large bite. I chewed, readying myself for the combination of rich and sweet that the peanut butter and honey collectively form. Imagine then – my dismay – when I tasted… FISH. I paused, my mouth ceasing all chewing activity, as my mind caught up with my taste buds. Confused, I stared hard at the bread in my hand. It looked normal, aside from the large missing mouthful that was currently resting – unmoving – on my tongue. Experimentally, I moved the food about a bit more. I definitely tasted fish.

How could this be??? Highly disturbed, I spit the offending matter out of my mouth like a toddler might. (I do believe – I must say – that the wee ones are often validated in this approach to distasteful foodstuffs. I fully support their actions on nearly every occasion.) Trying, unsuccessfully, to clear the taste from my palate, I retrieved the loaf of bread from the kitchen. “Eight grain whole wheat bread” it proclaimed, “omega rich!” This last bit now seemed – in light of my recent experience – suspicious. With narrowed eyes, I read the ingredient list.

And there it was. In clear black type, I read the words “cod oil.”

I don’t think I’m crazy to believe that there is really no place for “cod oil” in any sort of food that falls into the category of “baked goods.” I am – probably more than many people – an advocate of what we will term “health food.” I DO (obviously) purchase bread rich in omega acids. It seems – however – that it does not need to be SPELLED out that the omega acids in question should come from FLAX seed, not FISH.

Even if one WERE to sneak a bit of fish oil into something – as misguided as the action might be – one would have to be a MORON to use cod oil. Cod oil is about as subtle as a semi trailer on a road full of bumper cars. This bread was not fit for human consumption. I contemplated it for a moment longer, struggling to reconcile its appearance with the horrible truth contained within.

I would, I decided – setting the loaf aside, try to trick the squirrels into eating it later. With a sigh, I poured a bowl of cereal and munched it, reflecting upon my failure to notice this alarming ingredient when I originally made the purchase. It seemed bizarre. I distinctly remembered reading the label, yet I hadn’t noticed this ingredient, which was basically the equivalent of poison.

An hour later, as I sat at my desk still reeling from the fishy morning, I noticed a text message waiting for me from my friend J, my fellow life-contemplator. Opening it, I read this quote.

Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth.

-Ludwig Borne

Ah…. I thought, my mental wheels turning. Now we are getting somewhere. It seemed a remarkable coincidence that I was thrown violently out of my illusion of a delicious breakfast, only to learn that I had read – but not read – the ingredient label of the tasty – but not tasty – loaf of bread that I had purchased the night before. What else, I wondered now, am I living “the illusion” of?

It appears that today is a valuable lesson day, as distasteful (literally) as it may be. I will, I decide, welcome this. (Though I will NOT eat another bite of that awful bread.) As I move throughout today, and the subsequent days, I will endeavor to examine my life and my actions, searching for the illusions that do me no favors.

The next time I read an ingredient list, I intend to see it for what it is.