Monday, June 6, 2016

It's the Little Things

I frequently feel as though I haven't really accomplished much in my time on this earth, because, let's face it, I am a bit of a flighty bug.  The thing that I have really demonstrated skill at is screwing up and starting over. After giving it some thought, however, I realize: that's not a bad thing to be good at. It's actually a really good thing to be good at, because it means you're trying. You haven't given up and you're not complacent. To quote a small, blue, Disney fish, you just keep swimming.

So. That's a thing.

Here's another: having things go badly with on the sorta regular means that when things are going well? I get REALLY excited.  OH SO VERY EXCITED. It doesn't take much of an accomplishment for me to be completely stoked, because every item on the plus side of the column feels like a win at this point.  In case you think that's pathetic, by the way, let me just tell you: I firmly believe that it is better to feel extreme joy at the small things -- the little wins -- that not appreciate them while they're happening. You have to notice these things. You have to take the time to soak them in. Every win -- even the teeny weeny ones -- is still a win.

Which brings me to last night's dinner.

I have said previously that for many, many years I did not know how to cook and didn't care about it because if all else failed, french fries were a perfectly acceptable meal. I still love me some french fries, but I also accept the need to eat things like vegetables, and over the past several years have actually become a pretty good cook. I have a large collection of cookbooks to prove it.

But last night, I invented a recipe. All by my self. And yes, I stood over my sauce pan, praying to the kitchen gods "Please don't suck, please don't suck, please don't suck" but I also knew what I was doing. I added items with intent and purpose. I tasted. I stirred.

It came out ... well, let me be completely honest here:

IT WAS AMAZING.  Amazing, and healthy, and all mine. I did it all by myself. Just me and some ingredients and the belief that in that moment, I knew what I was doing.

It was a win.

I'll take it.

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