Tuesday, 14 January 2014

The Biscuits Still Turn Out

One of the courses I teach is Grade 8 Home Ec. When the class involves a Food Lab, the students are put into groups of three or four and given a role in order to produce some sort of food.

By this time in the school year, I know the students reasonably well so when I put them into groups recently, I gave particular students particular roles in order to give them practice where they most needed it.

The assignment was baking “Rich Tea Biscuits.” I gave the role of chef to Sam* because he needed practice in reading and following a recipe. He would notoriously begin reading the recipe, or at least listen as we went over it, then get to the kitchen and start mixing things together without consulting the recipe again. This method of cooking had already resulted in some playdough-like colored and textured blueberry muffins and some rather salty pancakes.

Also in his group, I assigned Marie* as host. She has considerable experience in the kitchen and didn't have trouble putting things together. She likes to do things right and I thought maybe her presence in the group would keep Sam on track with the recipe, would keep him from madly rushing ahead towards the goal.

It didn't quite work that way. Sam went ahead and added the milk to the flour mixture before he cut in the butter. Using a pastry cutter under these circumstances is harder than you may imagine. Remarkably, though, he managed to incorporate the butter into the dough.

Somehow in the process, the cook in their group, whose job it is to collect the ingredients, had neglected to add an ingredient or had added the wrong amount. Marie's sense of needing to follow directions kicked in. She grabbed the measuring cup and headed to where the ingredients were set out, bent on remedying the sorry situation. With a junior high sense of drama and a self-aware twinkle in her eye, she muttered in a stage whisper, “This is why I always work alone.” You could practically hear the eye-roll! Boys!

I had to laugh. I'm with her. I like to work alone too, and follow directions and do things correctly. I don't rush madly ahead without bothering to consult a plan or considering the consequences. But as I pondered this groups' experience and the members' past track record, I realized that no matter who was wearing the chef's hat, nothing completely inedible has ever been produced. Marie's cooking may be more appetizing, but Sam's food has all been eaten too. The biscuits still turned out.

While I can't give Sam full marks for following a recipe, I do have to admire his enthusiasm and his not sitting around, wringing his hands till he know every final detail of a thing before he jumps into action. I could learn something from him.

In our society, we are often pressured to be something other than we are. The quiet ones are encouraged to “speak up,” leaders are told to follow, people who prefer to work alone are put into groups, people who are enthusiastic are told to tone it down, creative individuals are instructed to follow directions, direction followers are pressured to think “outside the box.” Society thrives on cookie-cutter people; they're easier to manage. While only ever doing things the way we feel most comfortable with can stunt our growth, always feeling we need to be other than what we are can diminish zest for life and appreciation for the way we were made and fails to make the most of each unique gift. There needs to be room in our world for the Sams who forge ahead, who jump into action, who blaze their own trail and there needs to be room for the Maries who follow directions and execute a plan in all its details, who work better alone. As Ralph Waldo Emerson says, “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest achievement.” Even greater than having the biscuits turn out!

I praise you because I am
fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139:14

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Sunday, 5 January 2014

A New Beginning


I came across this astute observations on one of my favorite blogs the other day: “...while starting is hard, starting over is often much harder.”


Regardless, I will start again.



Yesterday, on the radio program “Writers and Company,” in response to a question on what his biggest extravagance was, Chris Hadfield, the astronaut and author, replied that he had 12 guitars. “It's easier to buy a guitar than to play one,” is what he said. That's what I've been doing with writing. I've been buying and reading books on writing, but haven't actually written something for awhile.



So I'm going to put down my book and pick up my pen, figuratively speaking anyway, and start again.



New Year's seems like a fitting time to start anything, new and new for the second time. Lingering vestiges of Christmas have been cleaned up and the year stretches out like a blank canvas, awaiting paint, happy splashes of yellow and blue, perhaps a stripe of black, and various shades of green.



Last year at this time, as I stood on the brink of 2013, my vision of what the year would hold turned out to be very different than the reality. I had plans and dreams and aspirations that got rearranged one month into the year. A person can plan and arrange (which generally I like to do), but life doesn't necessarily adhere to those plans. What continued to give me comfort and assurance and strength to carry on when I felt like I didn't have a clue was the knowledge that God was walking with me every step of the way and that when I took moments to calm my mind in God's presence, there was always help available to me. That is one lesson I want to carry with me into the new year. I'm also less eager to make specific plans for the future and more willing to meet the future as it comes to me.



However, I do have a few aspirations this year. Not resolutions, exactly, just ideas I'd like to practise a bit.



The first one is to have less stuff, but better stuff. I like things, so I bring them home. And then it often doesn't take long before the stuff I liked becomes clutter and then a nuisance and then a burden, or trash. I end up throwing things out or sending them to the thrift store or relegating them to the attic because I've brought home things that don't have lasting power. I'd like to follow William Morris' axiom, “If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” The only problem there is that sometimes my definition of beauty changes, or my expectations of usefulness are too low. I want to cultivate greater discretion in the things I haul home.



The second thing is that I am going to endeavor to both acknowledge and accept my natural rhythms. I am an early riser – always have been, but for some reason I often feel “less than” because of it. Boring and diligent people get up early in the morning; interesting and engaging people stay up late. But now, after all these years, I am going to acknowledge that I am a boring and diligent person and I wake up early in the morning. Staying up late does not, in fact, make me an interesting and engaging person; it makes me a tired and groggy and perhaps even grumpy person. And so, in an effort to accept the way that I am, I am no longer going to feel guilty for waking up early, and am instead going to use those blissful, quiet moments or minutes or hours to accomplish some of the things I am not going to accomplish late in the evening. (Of course, as soon as I decided that, I was overwhelmed with the urge to sleep in every morning....)



Which leads to my final aspiration. My hope is to again get into a routine of posting to my blog once a week. Writing my blog helps me to stay present in my own life, to pay attention to the gift that each day is, to process and absorb lessons I gain from experience. These are things that I value highly, but so easily lose in the routine of regular days.



So here's to 2014. May we be people who are prepared for what lies in store for us.



For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,

plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.

Then you will call on me and come and pray to me

and I will listen to you.

You will seek me and find me

when you seek me with all your heart.”

Jeremiah 29:11-13