“It’s been a long time between truffles!”
That’s what my late wife Anne would say at the beginning of our first meal in France on each vacation there. We’d go every year or two, and would invariably order an appetizer of foie gras to begin. In the center of the paté would be a small black nugget of truffle.
With this one simple statement Anne restructured our reality. A whole year of our lives, with all its content, was suddenly framed to be simply what had occurred “between truffles.” This gave it an ephemeral quality. What was real was us sitting at the dinner table in France … again.
This is what I call an anchor. Two well-defined points in time surrounding (anchoring) some “unimportant” filler. They can show up in different ways: Here we are in France again… Here I am playing baseball again… Back with Mom… Another first day of school.
Anchors feel good. The hodge-podge of our lives is instantly given a structure, even a purpose. Here I am, back on the beach in NJ. This is where I’m supposed to be!!! The present is magically connected to the past in a way that seems correct, inevitable. God is in his heaven, the plan is in place, and I’m OK.