Meditation

When I bake, time feels softer, slower, loving, kinder. It waits for me. Allowing me the leisure to measure ingredients, yet in the end tweaking to my senses. A dash here, a pinch there. Reading and reading again, a recipe, the story of the creation waiting to be formed. One of the few places, I get to own the end of a story. The slow gentle glow of the oven, culminating in a sustained, deep heat. Purposefully creating chaos, a mess, knowing the sweetness that would be devoured in the end. Lost in the attention. The feel of sticky dough. Shaping, molding, kneading, inhaling, tasting. Fingertips dancing, hands speaking. The anticipation of goodness. The excitement and sometimes exhilaration. Patience in its sweetness and art, slowing me down. A gentle, quiet lesson in trusting and hoping. Letting go of control, trusting... A new found love for uncertainty, made sweeter by the fullness and deep content within, when a creation comes together. The courage and persitence to try again when it does not. The joy. Oh, the joy when bellies are full and lips sing of laughter when the creation is tasted, touched, shared, devoured...

The freedom of it all.

This is my meditation...