For now, I've got to admit that I just want to write. Recipes were a good excuse, but never juicy enough to satisfy the writer in me. As a shameless chaser of human connection, I already know that I like to share my thoughts with the world. My love of communication borders on unabashed, and maybe it's time to take the plunge and just *gulp* live it. I want to share my thoughts with you. I won't tell you everything, because a certain amount of magic comes from keeping your secrets secret. Let's just say, if not an open book, I'd like to be a lovingly dogeared book, which you can feel free to open once and a while to see what's going on inside.
Of course, as someone who loves to share ideas, it comes as a blow when I can't get an idea across. I am too easily frustrated by people who I can't connect with; or rather, too easily frustrated by myself. My art history professor is a woman I barely manage to maintain eye-contact with, and every time she pauses awkwardly at one of my (poorly formulated, grammatically incorrect, german) questions, my heart skips a beat. "Shit, am I incapable of being understood?"
What I start to realize is that this frustration comes from the self-doubt it casts on me-did i do something wrong? Am I uninteresting? The usual questions of self-worth when someone doesn't immediately confirm it for us with a smile. Thankfully, at the moment it is impossible to take any of that seriously. Spring fever, or a trick of the mind, or both, either way I am seriously optimistic and self-loving right now, to the greatest extent that optimism can ever be "serious". I laugh so easily at silly jokes. I even laugh at things that aren't jokes...In How I Met Your Mother, the one series I guiltily watch late at night with a cup of tea in hand, Robin calls Ted an "I love you slut" because he says I love you so easily. I am without a doubt a giggle slut-I'll give it up at the drop of a hat, and truth be told, there's a good chance I'll laugh even if it's not funny, because it feels that good. I can't stop smiling. I can't.
So here I am, smiling away at my keyboard as I look forward to a day of dance, acupuncture and yoga. Jeeze, that's just holistic as hell. Fear not, I'll balance it out with a little bit of How I Met Your Mother, just to make sure I don't float away to Candyland on my peace and love rainbow.
Your words are so pleasant to read. Thanks for sharing (this and your recipes, too).
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The sense of not being understood is one of the hardest things to feel and to consciously admit. It's one of the scariest things ever, to be lost in absence of translation, to be dis-connected, also because it's perceived by our bodies as a direct threat to our biological survival... and it's inspiring to read how even a pretty serious emotion like that can be gracefully overcome with the light of many smiles. Bless those giggles. (Vd)