"He who pursues righteousness and love finds life, prosperity, and honor." -Proverbs 21:21
First off, it’s time we cleared the air a little, and I let something off of my chest that’s been bothering me.
Confession time!
*Deep breath* I can’t cook.
There, I said it.
I mean, I can read, obviously, so I can understand the instructions written on the beloved family cookbook, or on the back of the muffin mix, but there’s just always something that goes completely bonkers before the casserole makes its journey from the oven to the table. It’s my brain's fault; it doesn’t like to give itself completely to focusing on baking something when it would rather be thinking about something else.
For instance, the disastrous pancakes.
Don’t forget that alien banana bread.
Thank you, Johnny. And those cookies with their inedible batter. What had I done that time?
I can’t exactly remember. I wasn’t paying a flea’s worth of attention.
Neither was I. Two night ago, however, I decided to prove that I can be useful in the kitchen. I made blueberry streusel muffins. It was actually peaceful. As I mentioned earlier, I think it’s vital for writers to fill up their lives with as much spice and color as they possibly can, resisting the urge to waste away under a blanket with a laptop, creating beauty with words, but when I do find myself doing that (as much as it can be rewarding), I realize that I that have nothing to claim, outside of my words.
Some writers would say that all they need in life is their words. I disagree, and I think Ernest Hemingway would, too.
Ergo, the Muffin Madness:
It went smashingly, even though I had to wrestle with the can of blueberries with the can opener until the can looked as though it had been the victim in a game of kick-the-can, and my hands were so blue my family probably thought I’d come down with hypothermia (I never have gotten the hang of using a can opener). Also, I did accidentally get a few egg shell pieces in the bowl. I fished most of those out, though, I think, so that doesn‘t really matter. And then, finally, after the muffins were successfully deposited into the oven, and I began cleaning up the kitchen with an air of one whose proven herself wrong in a triumphant way, when I was suddenly gripped with panic when realized I’d forgotten to pat down the streusel! The directions had specifically told me to, and I’d,
well-
Forgotten. If I remember correctly, you were thinking about your book at the time.
Right, well, in the end, I bravely stuck a rubber spatula into the oven, and patted the streusel down, therefore saving the day. They were a little squishy when I took them out, but I banged them on the counter, and told them very firmly to firm up a bit, and they did.
Bravo.
Thank you. Moral of the story: don’t eat any food that I offer to you, until thoroughly inspecting it.
Also, squeeze as much spice and color into your life as possible. It doesn’t matter what kind of lifestyle you have, all you need is an open mind, and you’ll find yourself on an adventure you never thought you could have.
It’s true! And the best way to write an worthwhile book is to live a worthwhile life. A life that satisfies you. A dancing in the rain sort of life.
Here, in case you haven’t felt like dancing in a while (it can be your new theme song):
And now, I suppose it’s about time I explained the title of this post.
There’s a picture on the hall outside of the bedroom in our house, and it says, “One small, positive thought in the morning can change your whole day.” It’s glittery and lovely, and I think it’s absolutely marvelous, but it didn’t take me very long to realize that one small, positive though isn’t enough to change your whole day. Not for me, at least.
Pardon?
I could wake up one morning feeling unenergized, uninspired, and not at all like the creative writer that I want to be (in fact, sometimes the idea that I shouldn’t be a writer at all rolls in like a big, black cloud). My thinking, Well, at least it’s almost the weekend, isn’t a strong enough antidote to clear off all those pessimistic thoughts. I need an earth-shattering, ground-breaking thought. One that will literally shake away the cobwebs.
I think, I’m going to do something new today, or something crazy today, or something unexpected today.
I’m going to prove to that I am unpredictable: I’m going to paint a wall the color of a plum, tape a homemade mural of Narnia on the bedroom ceiling, take a rabbit on a walk, write an entire chapter (even if I’m not at all in the mood), fly to Mars, sing in the produce aisle, smile at everyone, wear rain boots to school even though I’m a legal adult, hang snowflakes from my ceiling (I have a crowded ceiling), climb a tree, and sit there for a long time. Dance. Can I say that enough times? Dance, dance, dance. Read an entire book sitting in the grass (how I long for the time of year when I can do that again!), play the trombone, and finally, make blueberry muffins, even though I have a bad reputation in the kitchen. This is how I break a writer’s block. By proving that I can.
There is so much untapped potential in every day, I cannot stress that enough. There’s a saying on my corkboard-
Corky!
Don’t interrupt. It says: “This is the beginning of a new day. You have been given this day to use as you will. You can waste it or use it for good. What you do today is important because you are exchanging a day of your life for it. When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever; in its place is something that you have left behind, Let it be something good.”
Be crazy! In a good way. That’s my advice for now.
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