Respect The Puds
At the end of April I took a trip down to London and stayed with a close friend. We caught up and talked rubbish for an evening before driving all the way down to the South Coast of England to a little seaside town called Salcombe. We had nowhere to sleep. We headed down there knowing we wanted two things; to go for a swim in the sea and eat some hearty pub food.
The five hour drive took its toll in blistering sun. It felt more like July than April. We listened to my favourite CDs as we passed through the outer suburbs on London; Soundcolors, mixed by the legendary Balearic DJ Phil Mison. Later on, Harry The Bastard’s Club H mix carried us through the rolling hills of Devon. After passing through the winding, single track lanes that rocked my associate to sleep like a little baby, we finally arrived at our destination.
There was a parking space just big enough for me to slide my little VW Polo into, and as fortune had it, we were right next to the Jubilee Peer. The weather was warm, but by 18:00 the water was bitingly cold. We slowly lowered ourselves in as the tide tried to carry us out to sea, but stayed in just long enough to give us a shiver. Getting dried and rid of sand wasn’t much fun, but fortunately the Victoria Inn had just slung another couple of logs on the burner.
We ordered fish & chips, proper English style, and just managed to leave enough room for pudding. As we waited, Bilts asked me if I was bothered that we didn’t yet have anywhere to stay for the night. We’d scoured availability on Air BnB, but to no avail. It was tempting to worry, but our pudding hadn’t even arrived yet. We were going to have to find somewhere to stay without the internet, using just the two feet and mouth that God gave us.
In the following moments I contemplated the presence I’d be sacrificing to sit there worrying before the pudding had even been served. The same could be said for when I’d be eating it. We might have been on our way to a meditation retreat at Gaia House, but we didn’t have to wait until then to start being mindful and practicing patience.
Shortly after the question about my worry, I uttered four famous words that will never be forgotten in our friendship. I turned to Bilts and I said, “Respect the puds, mate.”
What I meant, was that what’s the point in ordering a pudding if you’re not even going to give it your full attention while you sit there and eat it? It goes far beyond eating food, but this scenario brought it home perfectly.
We had a laugh about the situation and didn’t let the stress get to us. We paid the bill and asked the barman if he knew of anywhere to stay for the night. “They’ve normally got a couple of rooms at the Fortescue Inn” he said. I went to move the car and Bilts went to check for availability at the inn. After a few minutes he came walking around the corner with a wry smile on his face. We laughed to one another with a mild sense of relief as we got our belongings out the car and went to settle in our room for the night.
I thought about how much we’d have ruined our chocolate cake by worrying about where we were going to stay for the night. We didn’t know how things were going to turn out, so there was no point in stressing over it until we were in a position to deal with the problem at hand. Once we were, we gave it our full attention and found a solution.
Of course, if there hadn’t been any rooms at the Fortescue, it might have been very different story, but it wasn’t. Things tend to find a way of working themselves when you have a little patience confidence in your own resolve.