Chicken Soup for the Soul

Chicken Soup for the Soul, a homeopathic cure for cold symptoms and homesickness. 

I'm a proud University of South Carolina out-of-stater, hailing from stereotypical suburbia on the outskirts of north-east Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I'm even more proud of my family's Western Pennsylvanian roots, which undoubtedly shaped my upbringing. Both of my parents are from the same small town that, like so many others, burned bright during the Industrial Age then found itself in varying stages of depression throughout the 20th century. I remember stories told by my grandma about growing up during the Great Depression, and for much of my childhood until recent years, businesses along the main drag were empty or short-lived. 

Few things bring comfort like a home-cooked meal, and though my mother has never much enjoyed cooking, a few of her go-to recipes were too tried and too true to be critiqued. Arriving here in South Carolina, I quickly realized that these comfort foods were more unique to Western Pennsylvania and my family than I knew growing up in the east. A great example: Campbell's Bean and Bacon Soup complimented with peanut butter smothered Ritz crackers; yes, in the soup. Sophomore year in a rare bout of homesickness I had a hankering for just that, much to the disgust of my very confused roommates. 

Quite literally the only sustenance I consumed if I was sick was Canada Dry Ginger Ale, Nabisco Saltine Crackers, water, and of course the classic chicken noodle soup. I'm certain this was the same routine for my mother as a child, as it will be for my own children. There's just something perfect about it.

I feel like I'm practicing for the SAT again as I ponder my philosophical if/then statements posed by the existence of this blog. If Discomfort, Then Growth, right? So, if discomfort breeds growth, then comfort breeds what? The opposite of growth? I disagree. 

I struggle to define the terms of this idea I go as far as to live by. I don't think the question "what is the opposite of growth?", but rather "what is the opposite of discomfort?". If the growth factor is our independent variable, discomfort is a dependent variable in this theoretical experiment. If the opposite of discomfort is comfort, then how is our growth factor affected when considering this different dependent variable. 

Jeez, it's like a proof, but I didn't study that in college, and my mind is a mess trying to sort it out. One day I will define this once and for all; for now bear with me as we experiment together. 

I'm settling on this statement as a fluctuating and working concept:

If discomfort breeds growth, then comfort breeds security. 

Not a single noun in that statement is permanent, they are truly up for replacement and interpretation at any reader's discretion, this is just how I am defining the concept for myself and others who may be interested. 

This if/then statement is to illustrate the fact that security is just another interpretation of the growth factor. You can call it stability, confidence, whatever you want. The point is that growth is a factor that exists in every situation given enough intention and reflection. 

In no way am I preaching for people to live in a constant state of fight or flight searching for this promised growth (let me clarify that I promise you nothing, sorry). While I am urging readers to reap the benefits of intentionally exiting the comfort zone, every experience with any dependent variable (discomfort, comfort, or anything else) affects the trajectory of your life and who you become, and therefore has value. 

Now what on God's green earth does this have to do with chicken noodle soup! Don't worry, I've been setting the stage for a short story I want to share and reflect on. I'm sure anyone reading is thinking short?? we're 600 words into a post with a 100 word requirement?!  Well, I apologize for nothing! Let's dive in.

I was extraordinarily lucky enough to study abroad at the Italian business school LUISS Guido Carli through the University of South Carolina's International Business Program - much more on that another day. I spent four months living in Rome, Italy and bouncing around continental Europe when I could spare the time. 

Of course the first month is pure bliss; life felt like a permanent vacation! A bit more time revealed the affects of the less charming aspects of the Eternal City, such as the eternally under construction infrastructure and eternally shaky political stability.

The bliss quickly came to a halt in early March when I was wracked with unexpected illness. Now I am no stranger to being far from home, proud out-of-stater that I am, and I generally have a high tolerance for pushing through the pain for lack of better words, as I grew up an athlete with persistent shoulder problems. There was some nefarious energy in the air that stirred up the perfect storm that week, because I was miserable. Oh boy did I want my mommy!

I scoured the three grocery stores on my block for soup and ginger ale; coming up short on both fronts. Apparently Italians can fish, tomatoes, and it stops there. No canned soup?! What a bizarre concept. 

Looking back, I unconsciously analyzed my proof from back to front and took action. I sought the security that these comforts gave me, and I was very uncomfortable. Not only was I sick, far from anyone taking care of me, but I was unable to source the few simple things that would make it bearable, placebo or not. I don't care if I sound like a big baby, we've all been there. 

In the face of this discomfort, I learned how to make chicken noodle soup! I bought stock, chicken, carrots, onions, celery, and noodles (of which there are an abundance in Italy), and made something that I'm sure most people would prefer not to eat in all honesty, but it served its purpose in my desperation. I made my mirepoix, cooked and shredded my chicken, and let my stock reduce as it brought everything together. I even found a ginger soda in a remote corner of one grocery store, though it tasted like carbonated cherry cough syrup and probably isn't suitable for human consumption. 

Now let's define some variables and draw meaning:

Discomfort: ill, homesick, want my mom to nurse me to health

Growth: learned how to make chicken noodle soup(ish), practiced the art of doing and creating where something was lacking, instead of wallowing forever

Comfort: ginger ale, chicken noodle soup, saltines, water, a mother's nature to nurture

Security: Inexplicable magic, there's just something perfect about it

So now you see, I've spent a few hours considering and writing about something so unbelievably mundane within the human experience, yet I've drawn so much meaning and clarity from it in my expedition to define DBG.

I reinforced the idea that Discomfort Breeds Growth, and explored the idea of alternative dependent variables affecting our growth factor and the value added by stability in life.

I specifically enjoy how simple this experience was; reflecting on it showed me how many layers of complexity really are involved in everyday actions. 

They say life is about the little things; I think that's because so much life goes into those little things. They're never as little as they seem. 

With that being said, I do not encourage anyone to spend 4 hours pondering the existential meaning of making soup; I did it for you already! 

In fact, after finishing this, I think I will never intentionally scrutinize such simplicity again. I could have spent those 4 hours actually making the darn soup and I wouldn't be sitting in a coffee shop with my stomach growling right now. Hopefully this silly little story illustrated that there is just so much meaning to be had in every experience, positive or negative, whether you take the time to dissect it or not. That week started and ended negatively for me; I never really had my ginger ale and chicken noodle soup like I hoped and I felt like crap! But time, perspective, and now a looooot of reflection have shown me that the experience was a net positive gain. 

If it took me 9 whole months of removal from this situation to find the meaning, I am genuinely fearful for my friends in the aftermath of any future man who dare dump me.

If you made it this far, let me know below if you are craving a nice bowl of soup right now, or tell me about a time you found distinct meaning in something small. 

Until next time, find your factor.

JJ