I found this writing in a folder from a long-ago (and very short) stint of writing for a small local magazine in my hometown. I had titled it “Bread is Like Life,” which I still think can be true.
Originally, I wrote it in 2013 after spending the morning in the world’s tiniest kitchen trying my hand at baking. Honestly, the experience must not have been too bad, because I continued to bake throughout my time in that apartment.
I’ve done some light editing, but the heart of the piece is the same.
Tiny Kitchen Strikes Again
The batter in my bowl looks really lumpy. There’s nothing in the recipe that says it shouldn’t be, but this doesn’t look quite right. How am I supposed to get the lumps out without using a mixer?
There’s not even very much batter here. This is enough to make two loaves worth? All the bread batter I’ve seen (which, granted, isn’t much) was more solid than this – what have I done wrong?
I stand in the kitchen staring at the tiny white mounds of flour that blend in with the countertop. It’s 8 am. My feet are cold, but I’m too engrossed to get socks. I feel tiny granules of sugar beneath my feet. There are jars and containers open all over my tiny space. I’m so messy in the kitchen. And I feel like my arm is going to fall off from all this stirring.
Is this fun?
It’s my first time baking bread. A friend recently passed me a gallon-sized bag containing some loose tan liquid. She generously included the instructions, which told me to squish-squash-mash the bag for 10 days before I bake.
So here I am, ten days and two trips to the grocery store later, with cold feet and tired arms. And feeling frustrated because this stage doesn’t look like I think it should.
Bread is Like Life
These days, I rarely bake or cook (although I do find a little pleasure in creating one thing from many ingredients).
As I stand with my elbow up, holding the required wooden spoon and mixing the batter, I wonder – how often does my life feel like this? How often do I look at my circumstances and think, “Surely this isn’t how this is supposed to look. Shouldn’t there be more here?”
I’ll admit, I’m not exactly where I’d hoped to be at this stage in my life. I just rounded the bend into 27 (today, actually). I remember in college how I aspired to be like Richard Avedon, a published photographer at age 22. Or Paul Farmer, co-founder of Partners in Health, at age 28. Erin Gruwell changed the lives of students at age 25. Heck, even Taylor Swift signed with a record label at age 16.
While things thus far might not have turned out quite like I’d imagined, perhaps I should think of myself more as the batter. There are many things I hope to do and see during my life. But the ingredients that will make up my life are still being added and mixed about.
Even then, after all the parts are together, it needs to bake (for 1 hour at 350 in case you were wondering). While the process may take longer than I’d hoped, the finished product is sweet and worth sharing.
P.S. In case you need it, here’s another reminder that wherever you are in life, it’s ok if it doesn’t look like you think it should. Don’t worry, you’re not late. You’re right on time.
