freedom of choice

When we decided to eliminate carbohydrate-rich foods from our daily diet, shopping became strange, yet fascinating.

It suddenly turned out that a large part of the store ceased to exist for us. Entire aisles. Entire shelves.

At first, I felt lost. Products that had been in my cart almost automatically for years suddenly lost their meaning. I stood between the shelves, for a moment unsure why I'd actually come here.

Fortunately, this feeling didn't last long.

I quickly began reaching for only what we truly needed. Without thinking, without getting lost. Shopping became shorter, much simpler, and, contrary to appearances, cheaper.

Then something unexpected appeared. I felt a certain freedom, but not a spectacular one. Rather, a quiet one. It's about stopping automatic choices, not grabbing the same old thing, not reacting to what "tempts" from the shelf. Only what truly makes sense remains. And that was more important to me than simply changing my diet.

But the story doesn't end there, because something else has emerged.

There are also the purchases I make for work, and then everything looks completely different. Suddenly, the same aisles that disappeared from my private world return. The same products that ceased to exist in my home kitchen. I put them back in my cart. At first, this sparked some thoughts that maybe I should also change my offerings to customers, but then I realized that I shouldn't.

Everyone has the right to their own decisions and choices, so now I shop for my company calmly and without emotion. I know them very well. For years, they were part of my everyday life. They are still part of my work. I know how much joy they bring to my customers.

And somewhere between one product and another, the thought that I'm no longer eating this appears for a moment. Fortunately, it's not anxiety. More of a brief pause. As if two orders had momentarily converged in one place.

My own choice and the reality in which I work. And then comes the very simple answer: I haven't stopped being an honest and authentic cook. Only what I choose for myself has changed.

The flavors I prepare for others don't have to be my daily choice, because with full responsibility and gratitude, I could eat them anytime. I'm not eating them at this moment in my life, but they can be part of my work, my craft, my experience.

And maybe that's what this freedom is all about.

It's not about cutting myself off from everything that came before, but about being able to choose consciously- for myself.