I'm getting ready to go to church. This is a big week because Holy Week starts tomorrow. Today is Palm Sunday!

There is a luncheon after Divine Liturgy today and I've already figured that there's not much I can eat on my program. Salmon with lemon dill sauce (nope), steamed broccoli (yes), Lenten pilafi (Maybe. If I'm lucky, it's not got chicken broth in it because it's a fish/fasting day, but knowing how the lovely Greek Orthodox ladies cook, it's sure to have a ton of olive oil in it.), and salata (this is iceberg lettuce salad with tomatoes which would normally be great but the ladies make a very oily dressing and pre-coat the salad with it so it's off-limits for me, too.)

I'm eating a good, solid breakfast (not allowed before partaking of the Eucharist but I'm not communing until Saturday evening when I'm being Chrismated, so . . .) and bringing some nutrition bars in my purse in case steamed broccoli just doesn't cut it after two hours of standing in worship. That is the one and only thing I regret about being on a restricted diet: how it can be socially separating. It doesn't bother me that much, but it is there. When I am not doing what everyone else is doing, it is as if I am sitting apart from them in some way. I am living in a slightly altered reality from those around me and I don't think they even understand how deeply the differences go beyond the surface appearances of what I'm eating or not eating.

The comfort to this is realizing that EVERYONE has their cross to bear and every single person sitting at the table has something that is making an invisible chasm between them and those around them. It's not just me; it's the human condition to feel separate and alienated in some degree, whether it's the massive alienation of a homeless man or the miniscule alienation of a girl who sits and feasts on broccoli while everyone else eats whatever they want without much thought.

Lord have mercy on us all.