I started Mindful Sauce a few months ago during lockdown, feeling disillusioned and looking to connect with others through content that I value. I realised a while back that it was important to create a space where more authentic conversations can be had. Of course anything that involves authenticity requires us to be vulnerable, so I finally gathered the courage to come out and use my voice.
What’s in the name?
Since launching the Instagram page, I’ve been asked a few times why I named my blog Mindful Sauce and what it meant to me. So here’s the story of how I got here.
The Sauce part is not so straightforward. Growing up my sister always called me Soos, a sweet oriental short for Sarah. Somewhere along the way, a few inside jokes and some teasing later, my nickname morphed to Sauce. Since then and for as long as I remember, I was referred to as Sauce. And let’s be honest, life (and food) is always better with extra sauce!
The Mindful part is a little more obvious. What I want for the project is to talk about things that are not discussed enough, subjects that we tend to keep to ourselves and as a result we end up suffering alone and feeling lonely in the process. Some of the most challenging periods in my life were the most isolating. Some of the particularly difficult ones were navigating corporate Britain during my banking career, the world of childbearing, unlearning dogmas I was fed growing up in the Middle East and then re-learning a sense of self and setting boundaries. I want to share parts of me as a way to serve others with my experience and to make the world a less lonely place. I also want it to be fully authentic, to really reflect the genuine journey I’ve been going through.
The Mindful Sauce Content
But I’m consumed by Lebanon. Ever since I started writing again, all I can think of is my country, the hardship we are going through and the unfairness of life here. Since I’ve moved back, life is reduced to survival. I had all these plans to write about worldly subjects of self-actualisation; but on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs they rank pretty sophisticated on the chart.
In Lebanon these days, we worry about making a buck so we can feed our families, we are worried for our safety because our windows have been blasted off in the explosion. In an economic crisis we worry that the little money we have will be stolen by the hungry. We worry at the grocery store because everything is prohibitively expensive, we calculate whether we can afford to buy our kids a bar of chocolate. We are absorbed by our survival, we are taken all the way back down to worrying about our basic physiological and safety needs at the base of the pyramid. There is no time, there is no space, there is no emotional capital available to dedicate to anything else but existing.
So forgive me if I am not writing about my journey through therapy, or my struggles with childbearing or about feminism just yet. These subjects feel a little too insignificant for the current state of our hearts. The air feels heavy and our spirits are hanging low, it feels disingenuous to discuss topics that aren’t on my mind.
What I will discuss openly though is the struggle to lift ourselves out of the gutter and the journey to feeling better in this climate. Some of my poems may feel sad, and some of my articles may sound critical, but sometimes we must express the hurt and anger (always responsibly) in order to get to the right space.
Mindful Sauce is about our collective plight to make suffering matter by talking about the story and giving it a significant meaning. So walk with me on this journey of healing, so we can get back on our feet, resume our lives and get back up the pyramid to talk about our pressing issues.
Sending everyone love and healing in this challenging time.
I’ve been writing about Lebanon alot lately, checkout more articles in my Lebanon Chronicles category.
For more mindful content, check out Mindful Sauce on Instagram.