This is the kitchen where we talk about food, life, and recovery—a spiritual path to healing and peace.

You are invited to keep coming back to A Cup of Kindness to share your experience, strength and hope; fears, doubts and insecurities; and to pick up information, inspiration … and have a little fun!

My story
In January 2007, at the age of 51, I joined a 12-step program and began my recovery from food addiction, losing 75 pounds in the process. Read more…

In January 2011, at the age of 55, I began my recovery from a multi-trauma accident, 36 fractures, damaged lungs, and post traumatic stress. Read more…

I am deeply grateful for all the kindnesses, large and small, offered to me in recovery. Here I am... alive… still making progress … still not perfect … finding a new way forward in a growing community of women and men who share a lot in common around food and life.

I hope you'll join me in this kitchen and let me know what's cooking with you.

A Cup of Kindness

Open Heart Project


Mom’s poem

Helping Hands

The UPS Man

by Myra Tate

Perhaps the UPS man is my Higher Power.

He came early to my door

and gently knocked.

He said He was here to

pick up the package that was time-sensitive.

I asked Him to come in

and He said,

“I’m not allowed unless you say it

is alright.”

I said  “I need help with… “

and He said as He stepped over

the doorsill, “Ah. Is it too heavy

for you? Oh yes,” He said

as He walked down the hall.

“Yes, I see. It is a heavy package.”

“I don’t know where to put this new address,”

I said.

He laughed and oh so gently took it

from my hand.

“Watch,” He said.  “You must be sure to cover

the old address on the package with this

new one or it will come back to you!”

He lifted the package and said,

“You were wise not to lift this burden by yourself.

You do indeed need help while you are recovering.”

And with great care He carried the package to the door as He called out,

“Now come behind me and pull the door to  –

and I will see you next time.”

“Oh,” I thought with great relief,

“There is a next time.”


3 Comments to Mom’s poem

  1. Betsy's Gravatar Betsy
    September 20, 2013 at 5:47 am | Permalink

    I love Myra’s bemusement at the thought that she will live to see another day.

    For me a next time is a do-over, a chance to redeem myself from a mistake. A sense of bemusement /acceptance / humor would serve me well in this context.

    At the same time, thinking that I’ll change the behavior next time may provide me with an out from dealing with something difficult in the present.

    Perhaps next time I will call on the UPS angel to help me this time to say how I feel, to remain abstinent until my ass falls off.

    Oh, I think with great relief. There is a next time.

  2. Teri's Gravatar Teri
    September 20, 2013 at 7:15 am | Permalink

    Beautiful thoughts and words, from a beautiful woman!

  3. Myra TAte's Gravatar Myra TAte
    September 20, 2013 at 11:53 am | Permalink

    Yes, my dear Betsy, there is always a next time.

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