Why is it that Phil Collins is always playing on the radio when you go into a doughnut shop? Is there some subliminal message in “You Can’t Hurry Love” that makes one crave sugar encrusted, deep fried goodness? On the other hand, maybe it’s the noble doughnut itself that inspired a mediocre and balding English drummer to pen contrived clich?s about the plight of the homeless and cover a Supremes song. Then again, perhaps there is something in the shape or composition of a doughnut, which propels artist, poets, songwriters, and even Phil Collins to greatness.
The round shape of the doughnut symbolizes life, the universe, a never-ending cycle, a glazed, chocolate covered snake eating its own tail. The hole in the middle an empty void, the eye of the cosmic storm. A window into the depths of human possibility and a bottomless pit symbolizing the vastness of nature illustrating how little we know about our own souls.
There is no waste in the doughnut world. Much like the Hunter-Gatherer tribes at the dawn of civilization. Every part of the doughnut is used; even the doughnut holes are glazed and sold by the dozen. We can glean a powerful lesson from the doughnut, maybe it’s had it right all along. For example, a glazed twist is perfectly in tune with the circle of life. It realizes it’s symbiotic place in the ballet of existence and makes no complaints. It is created from bubbly oil and dough, covered with an even coat of the sugary sweet ambrosia known to mere mortals as “glaze.” Put on display under the buzz of florescence and fingerprinted glass until it is plucked and served unceremoniously to an obese and indifferent peace officer. Devoured in short order, the half chewed American pastry glides blissfully down the public servant’s throat. The bubbling stomach acids are like Jacuzzi jets messaging the spine of the consumed cruller. Dissolved and digested the glazed twist proudly joins with black coffee, fast food hamburgers and antacid tablets to be reborn and flushed right back into the world to start it’s journey again.
Some call it waste…'.I call it life.
