On the day after an election that swung decidedly in favor of change, many are celebrating and others are shocked. How did this happen, they may be asking? Who do we credit, who do we blame? Political pundits are dicing and slicing districts and returns, but for me, the answer is simpler than cross-tabs or the amount of money spent. The people are hungry – for food for their families, leaders who can govern and get things done, and decency and kindness and telling the truth.

I choose to believe that a common hunger has been rumbling for awhile in the belly of America. Folks are starving while the wealthy are gorging on cake and portfolios bloated by tax breaks and insider information. Folks are sick and tired of leaders talking about “asses,” and buildings, and wars while watching loved ones disappeared in the dark to undisclosed countries willing to take money for souls.

The hunger is real and more common amongst us than any political poll could have foretold. I pray we now meet to do the hard work of feeding the meek, the hungry, the poor, and ensuring the freedoms of average Americans.

When my husband asked last night, “How do you plan to follow the election results?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to be dragged through speculation, but did I have the discipline to stay away from social media and the news until it was done? I went to bed.

I woke up this morning, Election Day, to a miracle. Our internet was out. I could make calls and access a few apps on my phone, but the myriad of opinion-bloated “news” outlets weren’t available. How ironic. How much of a gift was that?!

I made tea, read Pema Chodron meditations, and journaled. I walked, talked with a friend, and read an excellent article about a woman keeping her relapse secret after 11 years of sobriety. I put away clothes, and then what? What do you do when waiting for an outcome you are not even sure you will believe when it happens?

I didn’t plan to make spring rolls or oatmeal cookies, but that’s where I found myself – mechanically pulling baking ingredients and boiling rice noodles at 9 in the morning. I stirred, and rolled, and thought without guilt – do I add chocolate chips and pistachios to the cookies? Tofu and zucchini to the spring rolls? As I cooked, I noticed my heart had slowed, a softer mind, and a gentler thought: Millions are heading to the polls today, and we are ALL a jitter. Meet me in the kitchen where good things can happen.

I thought about the cookies I make for my friends in Durango and said prayers for those there who are digging out from the mud. I thought of how we gather beyond political party lines to supply and staff food banks, and contribute to groups like World Central Kitchen in care of communities in war and devastation. I smiled as my husband walked into the kitchen and shared an e-mail from a friend in France who said he is hoping for good results. I stirred, and sliced, and as I did, I felt respect and well wishes for my country, our voting process, and for all of her people – every single one of us. I’ll meet you in the kitchen, and there we might share a cookie and sip some tea, and dream about what we might cook up next.