Toasting Marshmallows over a Glass-Top Stove

Patience on the Spiritual Path

I found myself fantasizing about marshmallows (and spirituality) the other day when they were featured in the supermarket sales flyer. In the absence of a campfire, my extremely fun grandmother used to have us toast marshmallows over our gas stove on nights when she would babysit. That was after we watched the aluminum-foil dome of Jiffy Pop rise and expand and had consumed every last kernel of buttery popcorn. My grandmother was a wise woman and knew the importance of a combination of salty and sweet snacks.

Whether campfire or gas stove, I was a set-them-on-fire girl. I enjoyed watching my marshmallows go up in a blaze of glory before consuming the sweet, charred glop. However, this is not possible on a glass-top electric stove. (Well, technically it is but not in quite the same way.) And so, last night, I had to opt for a more refined, golden hue on my marshmallow. As I stood there with my long-tined, long-handled fork, I thought about the importance of patience.

I’ll admit, the fast-track holds a lot of appeal in many areas. Spirituality is no exception. Who among us spiritual seekers doesn’t want to be set aflame in ultimate Truth? But it doesn’t often work that way.

We hear “God is Love” and it sounds so easy. But what is love? It has so many meanings in this world and everyone perceives it in a slightly different way. We read and study and intellectualize and still we do not know. We realize we must get our heads out of the books and actually live our spirituality. And even then, we’re still not quite there.

In the introduction to A Course in Miracles, it says:

⁶The course does not aim at teaching the meaning of love, for that is beyond what can be taught ⁷It does aim, however, at removing the blocks to the awareness of love’s presence, which is your natural inheritance. [CE In.1:6-7]

When we remove the blocks to the awareness of love’s presence, we move beyond just a bunch of interesting words, intellectual thoughts or ideas, or positive actions related to our perceptions of love. We remember the Truth of our Oneness—all of us together with God.

⁷For the holy instant reaches to eternity, and to the Mind of God. ⁸And it is only there that love has meaning, and only there can it be understood. [CE T-15.V.11:7-8]

Among my gang of spiritual friends, there has been conversation about stillness and silence, things that make the modern world shudder. We’re always talking, thinking, running, shopping, surfing, scrolling, swiping, reading. How often do we just sit in stillness and silence and “do” nothing?

Some people feel a sense of threat at being alone with themselves and will do anything to stay distracted. But among people who truly do want to get better at entering into stillness and silence, there can be some frustration when they attempt it and “nothing happens.”

Or, they realize just how much of a monkey mind they have and feel dismay at the number of thoughts running across their mind like a stock ticker at the bottom of a TV screen. And then there is the advice to get rid of the thoughts, or not get rid of the thoughts, or just notice the thoughts and let them go, blah blah blah. The focus shifts to all of those instructions instead of the stillness and the silence.

I understand. When I started meditating, that’s how it was for me. It got better over time and with a regular practice. In recent years, something has finally clicked.

The analogy that comes closest for me is the experience of being in a busy airport awaiting the arrival of a loved one. There is hustle and bustle all around you, but you are in a state of focused anticipation. You’re not doing anything. Just waiting, alert, in a completely receptive state. A marching band could parade behind you, and you wouldn’t even notice.

This analogy may not work for you if you didn’t spend the first eight years of a relationship separated from your significant other by an ocean and seeing each other only once or twice per year. Maybe it works better to think of your child coming home from summer camp or sitting on the floor of the pet shelter, waiting for the pet you want to adopt to come to you.

The only thing required of us is openness—a spirit of welcome.

So back to that marshmallow. I patiently waited. In the end, it was the color of a magnificent, golden light. When I bit into the slightly crispy shell, I noticed the density of the marshmallow had contracted during toasting, leaving some airy space at the center—just enough room for that last bit of anticipation before making contact with that divine goo—warm, soft, and sweet. Utter perfection!    

[I know it sounds like I toasted just one marshmallow, but in the spirit of full disclosure, it was more like four…maybe five.]

For more on stillness and silence, check out my friend Valentine’s post today: The still center of the storm.

With love and peace,

Margaret