I've been cooking a lot lately, and making a little bit of jewelry. The Bead Muse seems to have left me, and I don't think she'll be back any time soon, if ever. C'est la vie. I really don't mind. Maybe it's just Spring Fever, but I feel like I'm in one of those limbo-places again, where nothing's really wrong, but I know something is trying to shift. As always, I wait for Further Instructions, and wonder what I'm supposed to "be" when I grow up. Can't just Be. That doesn't pay the bills. And besides, it would drive me crazy. So I wait, and I cook, and I ponder the idea of writing some sort of cooking book. I'm getting encouragement, and that helps. I'm making notes and tentatively listing possible chapters. And cooking. Did I mention cooking?
My Mom was a great cook, in a meat-n-potatoes sort of way. I learned a lot from her, and then wandered off to try some tricks of my own. I think I do pretty well, and I know that when we're good at doing something, it's usually a good idea to share that gift with the world in some way. Maybe it's time for me to share this one. All signs point to Do Something New, which is a sharp left and miles away from Keep Banging Your Head Against The Same Old Wall. Even my hands are begging me to ease off the jewelry and give them a rest. The big question is, Will I/can I listen? Or will I chicken out, afraid to jump off the cliff, not trusting the net that has always, always been there...
This morning I woke up intending to make some banana scones, but changed my mind and made a delish breakfast scramble with tofu, sweet potatoes, pinto beans, and spicy red chile sweetened with just a splash of maple syrup. That's what I call inspiration. That's what I want to be listening to. And I know from experience, the better we are at opening up and letting inspiration move through, the stronger the flow becomes.
Listen. Cook. Write. Repeat.
That's my plan for the weekend.