Until fairly recently I thought I didn’t like cooking. And I became vegetarian and curious about food, the food that was entering my body. So I started cooking and enjoyed it. The feeling of accomplishment it brings by creating something that I can use, the peacefulness of that moment in the kitchen. But I don’t always have much time. Or many ingredient. Sometimes I just want a quick snack. My sweet mouth and I love this compote recipe. Simple, quick and delicious.
A story of dreams, power and life
There’s a cupboard in each of us. A cupboard where we keep all our dreams. We fill it a little bit each time a dream arise in our minds. From early childhood dreams such as being the queen of flowers or living in a tree. To adult-like dream of owning a sport car or going on holidays to a tropical island. All kind of dreams are stocked in this cupboard if there are not coming true. Like fairy tale book which never enters reality.
This is the cupboard of dream. A cupboard I filled with many, many dreams. Most of them, sadly, won’t come true. Obviously my Hogwarts owl never arrived and I’m not Esmeralda (NB). But the others? What happened to all my plans and awesome future?
It seems that at some point I closed my cupboard of dreams. Not only the cupboard is now closed but the key also disappeared. I see all my dreams behind the window and contemplate the possibilities they offer me and dip into the contemplation of “what if”. Closed, they are out of reach. But bookworm will understand me when I say just looking at books make me feel good, just thinking about my dreams make me live them.
Life is an overwhelming experience. To me. People, unplanned events, mood, hormones. All those things surround me until I feel like they are taking all my oxygen. And I can’t breathe. And I become nervous, I start stressing, snapping. I lose myself and my energy. And I feel guilty for being unable to control. Control myself. My body. My emotions. All those waves in which I drown.
While awakening to life I realized I didn’t need to control my body. Nor myself. It wasn’t about controlling, it was about going with the flow and instead of fighting with those waves of stress rolling on me, instead of trying to strive against a water of anguish penetrating each of my pores, I could master the art on staying on top of this sea of emotions and events. They wouldn’t disappear and I wasn’t able to fight it, no one could. But I could float. Yes float on top of it. I wouldn’t walk away but I could make it stay away from me by creating a mental space.