Today I’m in the kitchen. Oh not to worry, I’ve been out to the garden, had my walk around, but the clouds have closed in, the sky is dullish and I can feel myself weighted down.
Being a very ‘thinking feeling’ person, I sometimes spend too much time in my head. This morning it feels like a very busy intersection. Thoughts buzzing and flying around madly. Far too many to follow … to read … to feel.
When work, commitments and conflicting schedules leave my husband and I with mere minutes in a day to connect, I start to feel a little ‘lost at sea’, grasping for branches.
I am keenly aware when my skin feels thin, and once I become short with our beloved Ted, who’s the most lovable trusting and gentle dog – I know my bristles are showing.
Possibly it’s time for some baking therapy. I used to bake a lot, when I had more time, before I went back to working outside the home. Of course, as with anything, I still could make time. On the counter lies one pretty spotty banana, beside two of his brothers, looking quite brown and squishy – we may be forming a group!
It feels like a good day for something warm and cinnamony, and you fellows lying there look just perfect to me.
The butter is lovely, almost my favourite shade of yellow, soft and creamy. Seems like a good place to start. To this I add the sugar. All ready I am smiling, breathing softer. My staples – flour, sugar, baking powder, etc. I keep in lovely old Crown sealer jars. This frustrates my husband when he is cooking, as these jars have the metal rim outside and glass ‘sealer’ tops inside – you have to wind them on and off. However, you have to line them up correctly for the metal rim to screw on properly. This requires patience and taking just a minute to proceed slowly, whether taking them off or and especially when putting them back on. I think this is a good reminder to take things slow, to be mindful, conscious … here.
Disappointingly, my new mixer (you may recall the sad tale of the loss of my old one) and I have not really become friends. He seems to run at too high a speed for my liking, and just won’t calm down. Except at times when he chooses instead to just stop. If today you hear of my demise, look first to this mixer – if he has decided to short out and zap me or something just as nasty, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ve cursed him since he arrived, speeding on to the scene, quite unwilling to co-operate. However, threaten him as I may, I still have not replaced him, so, I admit .. I need him and we’ve agreed to get along for the time we must spend together and accept each other’s flaws.
Next, is to find I have no eggs! (ugh, is this some kind of test??) Almost ready to walk away, I remember, I do know how to substitute for this very problem. Deep breath in .. another half a teaspoon of baking powder and a little more liquid, things will turn out fine.
The folding in, and mixing things together allows me to mindfully release a little tension from my body. The smell of the cinammon and the mere sight of the chocolate chips make my heart flutter.
Of course, knowing that this lovely cake will be enjoyed by my family makes it very easy to fill with love.
Into the oven, it will expand and grow, and fill the house with it’s wonderful smells.
My senses soothed, thoughts cleared, I return my jars to the shelf, mixer to the drawer, dishes to the sink.
My heart feels lighter, much appreciating the lessons from my kitchen, to center me once again in being … here … in kindness and as always … in love.
and now, I think I shall lick the spoon!
lessons from a Crown Jar
