I bizarrely have lots of thoughts about grain, almost none of them related to each other.
I think about grain and Halacha. What are the grains? What bracha do you say on them? When are grains a grain? What is the status of rice?
I think about grain in relation to the laws of Shabbat. About borrer and zoreh. I think about how so many of our laws are based on agriculture. They are based on knowing how to work the land and create out food, something that I feel very separate from today. I do cook, but I am not farming. I am not grinding my own wheat. I am not really doing any acts of separation. But all the ideas are something I think about.
I think about going against the grain. What does it mean to go in the way that you feel is right for you, when it is not the thing that anyone else is doing? How do you keep up the strength to continue to fight? Is it actually worth it to go against the grain?
I think about how small each grain is and can be. That all the very small pieces are horrible to clean up if they fall on the floor. That when they are cooked together they are able to provide food and nourishment. That when they are raw (for the most part) they are almost inedible, but when something is done to them they are the main source of food for people.
This is just a quote that I found that I liked a lot. It has nothing to do with grain, but I didn’t want to have two separate posts.
To have a friend, to call him or her by name and to be called by him or her, is already to know that one of the two of you will go first, that one will be left to speak the name of the other in the other’s absence. Again, this is not only the ineluctable law of human finitude but the law of the name. Mourning thus begins already with the name. (The Good Death, by Ann Neumann, pg. 206)