Sunday, March 17, 2013

Preheating ...

I began compiling this binder some years ago.

I like creating binders. Yes, I have a love of office supplies, but I like organizational-type tasks because they provide the feeling of accomplishment without actually having to take any risk.

Perhaps I depleted my chutzpah stores to dangerously low levels when I was 19.

Or perhaps I'm just someone who takes a long time to get where she's going on any particular leg of this journey we call life.

Or perhaps I just need to accept that things happen when they're meant to happen. "When the mango is ripe, it falls from the tree," as Doreen would say. Has said. Does say.

Put another way, as favored by Amy in this amazing quote:

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
— Anais Nin

At the risk of mixing metaphors, that's where I am.

Taking steps toward baking professionally is a radical shift for me. It shouldn't be radical as I've been taking very tiny steps toward it for a very long time, but I've always been a little slow on the uptake where professional pursuits are concerned.

I can't tell you how long it took me to acknowledge writing as a talent that had value in the world. From the time my mom taught me to print my name – I was 3 – I wrote. Words always came easily to me. Music, too. I'm no Mozart, but I can hear the musicality in language, which is why people respond to the way I write, I reckon. For the same reason that some songs are so hummable.

But most everyone writes. Most everyone can string together vowels and consonants into words and string those words into sentences and use those sentences to convey their thoughts.

It took me a long time to realize that not everyone can do it to the same effect, though.

And so it is with baking.

I bake. I've been baking since I was a kid. I've surely gotten better over the years, but it's always just been something I've done and so, despite people telling me for years and years that I should do it professionally, I never gave it more than a cursory thought. "Yeah, that'd be fun, I guess," I think, and then I'd move on. To nothing particularly fulfilling.

But eventually, when something's meant to be, the frequency of the messages picks up, their volume rises. Execution's perfected. And eventually, one finds oneself at a tipping point.

I'm at the tipping point.

It's teeter-y, but the thought of what lies ahead is more exhilarating than scary.

And that's what's different this time.

There are some practical needs that require my attention first, but I'm on this path with no intention of turning back. Or of finding a way out.

So here it is. In black and white. Words on a virtual page. Commitment, intention, call it what you will.

I'll let you know when the first batch is ready.

And thank you, thank you, thank you to all of my cheerleaders and angels. You know who you are.


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