Did anyone ever shim a psyche?

from mosaic (4) by freda karpf

“Knowledge without sympathetic perception is barren.” 

                                                            Loren Eiseley, The Unexpected Universe

     Did anyone ever shim a psyche? It would be like situating a little comfort here. Raising the spirits there. Nothing, no matter how good the carpenter, is ever truly square. No soup starts out the same and you can’t dip a ladle into the same soup twice. I don’t care how perfect the ratio for the mire poix. You simply cannot expect two parts onion, one-part celery and one-part carrot to part the ways of difference. It’s unreasonable.

     Yet, in making soup one is trying to shim the spirits and bring together a reasonable contingency of ingredients just as the conductor might assume the position, somewhere within her being, akin to the readiness of a cricket to jump. Poised beyond what is human, the conductor shifts to the subtle but sure satisfaction of control that only one can controlling an entire orchestra. The players, each one some kind of cricket with a locust recessive gene, gets it and moves to sound. The audience doesn’t get it until the sound. That’s the difference between being in the orchestra pit and not.

Now, the Spanish begin soup or some tasty main dishes as well, with a sofrito. The variety is endless because everything depends upon this so that each person’s sofrito is unique and everyone’s comfort food has soul that is not standard but will sweep you into the arc of the conductor’s baton and you will move to the music of your mother’s soup; or your grandmother’s beans and you will know peace.  The answer therefore is, yes, you can shim a psyche but you have to be certain to keep onions, carrots and celery on hand.

Except from riding the waves:  a tale about being home in the world by freda karpf