I generally think too much. Mostly, I think of what it takes to live a happy, full life. Specifically, I think about what I'm not doing correctly in that respect. Today though, I realized that I do a lot of things right, even when I think I'm doing it all wrong. One thing that I think I do particularly well is being vulnerable and embracing the inevitable pain that comes with seeking sweet and wonderful experiences. In the kitchen, this translates to enjoying experimenting even when experiments go bad. For instance, this evening, I tried to make a mock carbonara with soba noodles and spinach. And no cheese. With a soupcon of too much garlic. It didn't turn out well. Then I realized that I handle a lot of things in the same way. Romantic disappointments seem to pile up around me like unread magazines, and yet I still keep trying. (Despite vowing that every time is the last time). Calmness in the face of a very sick pet, not trying to make things certain and refusing to deny pain and discomfort are things that make me stubborn, elusive and messy. But they are also the things that make me beautiful. (And next time I'll taste as I go and make it with quinoa noodles).
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