Darned Top Chef
I would now like to interrupt this trip in the way back machine to have an actual post.It’s no secret that I have been struggling lately. So much so that someone got very stern with me and told me I clearly needed meds. I hide things so very well, you see.
I was thinking, while watching Top Chef, of all things, how different my life would be if I had made better choices. I watched all of these very young, talented people doing what they love and being insanely creative. That could have been me.
When I was a little girl, my father was in and out of work with fair amounts of frequency. My mother worked in a solid, stable line, keeping us afloat and awash in her love. Often my brother and sister and I were left in our own care until she came home from work. This is where I came into my love of cooking.
I wanted my mom to come home to something warm, and loving. I loved a sharp knife and a cutting board I loved playing with flavors and heat and color. I loved knowing that when my family sat down together that my work was the reason why.
It was another piece of the creative puzzle of me that was clear and present even at a young age. I toted around a little book to write in, making up stories and poems and worlds that belonged just to me. I would tote an old cassette player into the stale summer air of our garage and sing until the tools on my father’s workbench vibrated with the strength of my voice.
In those days and hours, when light would softly filter in through the screen on the window of my childhood felt the most authentic me. Before pretense, before pressure, before life.
Practicality has a way of diminishing the passion we feel. The passion we have, it’s true and it’s necessary in a way. To keep us balanced. However, I do feel like I am losing that connection to the pieces of myself that are most uniquely me. I am being shoved into a mold where I just don’t fit.
I feel like I am losing my magic and I don’t know how to get it back. But something has to move. I have to find a balance.
May 28th, 2008 at 11:32 am
at the risk of sounding like a know it all, the mold doesn’t seem just right for a flutter. ((hugs))
May 28th, 2008 at 11:36 am
Well, you aren’t really “interrupting” so much as expanding on the theme of passion.
You know, that when one is lost (as I was after the great debacle end-of-marriage) one is always advised to think back to past passions. It was eye-opening when my therapist told me to think about what engaged me or inspired me as a child. At first I said nothing, and then I thought about it and that is how I ended up going back to get the degree that I did.
Must you lose your passions, or can you find some place for one or all in your life?
Shed the mold — when things don’t fit you can never be comfortable. There’s a way to compromise whatever it is you need to do and still have your passions. Hell, if I lived closer, I’d pay you for cooking lessons, cuz I just don’t have those skills or that interest and I feel “less” because of it. (girl = cooking)
May 28th, 2008 at 11:41 am
What does your therapist say about this? Despite being an advocate of meds to help alleviate depression, once again – what does your therapist think about it? From what you’ve written about him, nothing about you gets by him.
I know something of how you feel, I too have lost whatever creative spark I had lately and all I can offer is – it will come back.
I’m sorry if you feel people are trying to make you into something you’re not. Don’t let them. Dare to be yourself and I think your creativity will return.
May 28th, 2008 at 12:35 pm
I’ve had dry spells before, long ones. It feels quite desperate, as if your spark and your passion will never return. I went five years – FIVE – without writing anything more exciting than an employee newsletter and thank you notes.
Then the dam broke and I haven’t gone one day without writing in almost a year.
You’ll get there again. Don’t fret that the mojo is gone, it is just hibernating. It can’t stay curled up forever.
And guess what? I went on meds, and that is when I started my blog.
No shame in a little extra help from our friends at Pfizer. Trust me on this one.
May 28th, 2008 at 12:37 pm
The magic is never lost, sweet one, especially not yours. Sometimes it goes underground for awhile, sometimes into hibernation, nearly always without an apology or explanation.
As hard as it is, try to have faith. There is MUCH that is special and amazing in you. Take care of your numinous soul.
May 28th, 2008 at 12:38 pm
I see you sparking.
I think the trick is in making being creative with the practical; working it into the everyday. It’s a tight rope trick. That’s what I’m hoping anyway, I’m trying to practice the art of everyday.
On meds, they’re helping me. Not that I’m the poster child or anything…
Big warm hug!
May 28th, 2008 at 12:41 pm
I think it still could be you. I think it IS you.
You’re in a rough patch. I think you’ll bust that mold; it was never meant for you.
(And if you do try some meds, I’d love to hear how they work for you. I’m in a tough place myself it seems.)
May 28th, 2008 at 1:06 pm
The thing that has always been hardest for me, is once I’ve recognized and acknowledged, how incredibly long and arduous the process of change is/can be.
I was home while my dad worked and have a very opposite experience with cooking when I was young. I know it’s directly related to why it’s something I don’t really enjoy now as an adult.
I love me some Top Chef and loved seeing Jen again.
May 28th, 2008 at 1:08 pm
I’m going out on a limb here… Do you really feel shoved into the mold, or did you think life would be easier if you fit into the mold?
When I was younger I tried to fit the mold, because I thought it might be easier. It was to point, but I wasn’t happy because I wasn’t me. I was the version of me I thought others would like better.
I eventually decided if people didn’t like me for who I really was they could just sod-off. I don’t need people in my life who need me to conform to their ideals. I’m not surrounded be loads of friends, but the ones I have are the real deal, loyal, loving, kind, compassionate and maybe a little irreverent.
May 28th, 2008 at 1:43 pm
Sorry to hear things aren’t good… I’m wondering why you are feeling like you are losing your balance and magic? Perhaps the solution lies within that answer? Anyway, thinking about you and hope things improve. Hang in there…
(BTW: we know baby flavors. If you’re curious, let me know ~ I can’t blog about it)
May 28th, 2008 at 1:44 pm
When your shared items come through on the reader, I look at the cooking sites, drool for a while and then fix something out of a box. I wish I could have the patience and desire to create with food, and use it as a means to show love. If you’re ever out this way, I’ll whip you up a mean 7 layer dip, but that’s about as fancy as it gets. Love the new font, btw.
May 28th, 2008 at 1:57 pm
It’s so easy to lose touch with yourself, I know. I do believe that you can get the things that make you you back though. None of it is gone for good. Life always changes and the possibility for new things is always there. Don’t pressure yourself though, sometimes you just need to rest.
I’m sorry you’re struggling. I send you love and healing hugs by way of airmail. Literally, like through the air.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:00 pm
There will always be passion and magic in Flutter. I think the key is finding a way to let it flow out of you and into the world. You are a gift that is meant to be shared.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:00 pm
I feel this one and I am grappling with the same practical versus passionate choice. Writing is my passion but it’s dividends are far and future…right now it’s just not practical for me to be writing as the bills collect. But then I sacrifice deep, inner happiness and satisfaction to be in a job that just pays a wage.
Sigh. Life’s so difficult. I can hardly bear it and so am tempted to go back to bed for another 11 hours…sleep seems simpler.
I’m with you, my dear.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:08 pm
The meds might really help, they can be a godsend. Give it the thought it deserves first though.
Life seems to go in cycles, i bet your passions will return.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:20 pm
I see your passion every day, right here.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:30 pm
Passion and creativity aren’t always there–sometimes there’s an ebb and flow. I think there has to be, or we’ll be spent before we know it.
May 28th, 2008 at 2:51 pm
I’m almost 40, and I still wonder what I’ll be when I grow up . . .
May 28th, 2008 at 3:00 pm
You are most certainly not meant for a mold. That feeling that you’re losing yourself? Find what’s in the way and replace it with things that make you happy. Fight that feeling with all you have.
May 28th, 2008 at 3:03 pm
Your magic isn’t lost sweetheart, maybe it’s at rest. Perhaps you’re not ready for too much passion and creative energy right now. Be patient, all will return to it’s full energy at the right time. In a mold? No way, not Flutter.
May 28th, 2008 at 3:14 pm
I’m sorry you feel that way. I go through funks where I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing with this life. They always pass. I hope the magic reclaims you, or vice versa.
Hugs.
J.
May 28th, 2008 at 3:39 pm
I don’t care what you write or when you write it; I’ll be waiting to read it! My energy and creativity (what there is of it) ebbs and flows like the tide on the Gulf beach two blocks to the south. And it’s high or low (the tide), influenced by of all things, the goofy moon. Today, at work, which was one of my busiest in several weeks, all of a sudden, I had a huge flurry of ideas for possible posts. Much of the time when we maintenance fellows are doing our work orders, we tag team them, to knock them out quicker. As I would move from job site to job site around campus, and arrive at the next site, the fellow who I was teaming with today, asked me “What the heck are you writing down so much on that notebook of yours?” I says “I’m making notes of future projects I want to do, before I forget what they are. When the mojo is flowing, you’ve got to write it down.” He looks at me like, “Whatever, dude.” He has long been used to my Yankee whims. Thoughts and prayers, Christine, continue your way.
May 28th, 2008 at 4:09 pm
“Practicality has a way of diminishing the passion we feel.”
So very true, oh wise one.
Ease up on yourself, though. You’ll find your way. It ebbs and flows, but it’s never lost.
May 28th, 2008 at 4:19 pm
whatever gets you through the day
May 28th, 2008 at 4:24 pm
i remember those childhood twilights, writing and singing, full of life and promise and unable to imagine being distracted or weighed down so far that i couldn’t find that me anymore. but so it goes.
i do know, for me, blogging has been the first step back in that direction. i wonder if for you this isn’t more creative and passionate than you give it credit for?
though it is not all, you are quite right. wanna come over and play in my imaginary band?
May 28th, 2008 at 4:38 pm
sorry, but even at what you consider to be the driest of dry spells?
you’re DAMN creative.
May 28th, 2008 at 7:12 pm
Losing your magic? Not a chance love. You just aren’t recognizing it right now, but it is very much there. You inspire me with every word you write.
May 28th, 2008 at 7:49 pm
balance IS magical.
May 28th, 2008 at 8:51 pm
A lesson for everyone in this post. Finding passion and balance is so important…
May 28th, 2008 at 9:34 pm
The passion and creativity is in you, don’t ever doubt that. Balance is the key, but real life makes it so very hard. Keep moving forward, this will pass. Your writing is so inspiring and honest, even when you are not feeling the creativity. It is there.
Peace and blessings.
May 29th, 2008 at 12:58 am
This hits too close to home right now. Can’t really comment, unless I said something very self-centered, and that’s just not even productive. So, I’ll give you a hug instead ((((flutter)))).
May 29th, 2008 at 4:43 am
I love to cook too, flutter. When I come home at the end of the day, it is like a release to make myself gourmet meals. This is not something people who do not have a passion for food will understand.
As others have said, it ebbs and flows. It will come back, and I have to say, your writing does not show signs of suffering at this point.
May 29th, 2008 at 4:59 am
I spent the day yesterday washing windows and listening to Cat Stevens, who has been my favorite musician since I was under ten. I highly recommend listening to old music and doing something mindlessly physical as a way to open up.
May 29th, 2008 at 5:17 am
I’m struggling with this every day. For me a lack of time has a lot to do with a lack of creativity. But time is the prize I pay for training to become someone with new skills.
Sometimes I get scared that I will loose me or die in this academic mind set. It all seems so pointless. Maybe I should run away to India.
I just don’t know.
But I do know that for me you are magic*
May 29th, 2008 at 6:43 am
I agree completely with hele – you inspire me with each and every post, your commitment keeps me from giving up.
Much love, darling, you will find your way through this struggle.
May 29th, 2008 at 7:00 am
I have lost cooking lately. I miss it.
May 29th, 2008 at 7:28 am
Sending a hug and hoping for balance, for me and for you.
May 29th, 2008 at 8:01 am
You know, meds aren’t the end of the world. I’ve come to terms with my 50mg of Zoloft every morning. It just helps.
May 29th, 2008 at 9:46 am
I’m in this same spot myself.
Balance, always a bit elusive.
eh. I figure one day we’ll figure it out.
or not. lol.
May 29th, 2008 at 11:36 am
I absolutely understand the feeling of losing your magic. I feel like I get through my days one at a time, doing what needs to be done – which takes every waking minute. I am dealing with backbiting stresses at work (professional jealousy of all things), finances, a husband who has become alcoholic, a stepson whose marriage is on shaky ground (again) and wants to come live with us (over my dead body), and a granddaughter who gets shoved off of us because her parents “can’t afford” a babysitter, yet they can afford bling, a high-end HD tv, a 55-gallon aquarium, and a new outfit for her every single day. I swear I’ve never seen the child wear the same thing twice.
And I’m supposed to be in there somewhere. I just can’t find me right now.
May 29th, 2008 at 12:50 pm
But your writing here is so passionate and so magical!
May 29th, 2008 at 1:18 pm
You are exploring the loss of your passion…or maybe that’s too harsh? Perhaps the burying of your passion, or the setting aside…but that is the thing, no one can take away what is uniquely yours…uniquely who you are. It’s still all there, maybe you need to figure out a way to express that? I would love to come over for a dinner party…you know, just sayin…
May 29th, 2008 at 1:34 pm
i am a bit like that too. change is in the air. you just need to go outside into a quiet place and breathe.
May 29th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
You said this:
I feel like I am losing my magic and I don’t know how to get it back. But something has to move. I have to find a balance.
My reply:
I feel the same way in a lot of ways. It’s no fun. I hope you’re able to get the help you need, whatever form that takes.
And thanks for stopping by my blog.
May 29th, 2008 at 3:36 pm
I’m wondering what mold it is that is forcing you. work? family? 9-5? I gave it up. I left it all. I still floundered. I still do, but I’m finding that at 37 (38 very soon) I am finally finding my way. Did you take the time to watch that video over at Finding My Way Home by Thailand Chani? If you didn’t it might be worth taking the 18 minutes…
May 29th, 2008 at 3:48 pm
Have you ever read/done “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron. Powerful. Taps into that good, juicy, inner child stuff. It can always be rekindled. Always.
May 29th, 2008 at 5:48 pm
However, I do feel like I am losing that connection to the pieces of myself that are most uniquely me. I am being shoved into a mold where I just don’t fit.
Well why the hell are you losing connection…now? (The $64,000 question.)
And who’s doin’ the shovin’…in your estimation? (The $63, 999 question.)
No wisdom, just more questions.
/shoulder shrug
What can I say, it’s who and how I am.
Questions are the answer, ya know? (wink)
Sure you do. (smilie smile)
May 29th, 2008 at 6:37 pm
I’m going to sort of echo what someone said up above, but in an ineloquent “I’ve just had a headache for two freaking days. Help me ease the pain” sort of way.
When I see your shared items, I see someone passionate about food and design.
On your blog, you write about your passion for writing and how it is who you are.
You know…why not write about food and design?
May 29th, 2008 at 9:05 pm
writer, singer, cook, friend.
no dry spell there, my love.
but it is hard to see our own talents. and it is even harder when those talents aren’t given our full attention because this crappy ass life makes us do shit like work dumb ass jobs and buy the freakin’ groceries and wash the damn clothes. we so often have to push those loves, passions, talents to the back burner.
but at least you know where your passion lies. never forget.
but don’t stop doing those things, please.
sing for me again sometime, flutter.
May 29th, 2008 at 9:32 pm
There is time. You have time.
“The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” Einstein
May 30th, 2008 at 7:07 pm
Honestly, flutter. You need only spend a few minutes on this site to know that the magic is here. It may not be immediately evident to you at certain times, but it’s here.
May 31st, 2008 at 2:50 am
“Practicality has a way of diminishing the passion we feel”…Yes. But, you are all about passion in my eyes. I guess it’s being able to fully express it and fly.
May 31st, 2008 at 8:28 am
Ahhh…”balance”…ever elusive. Please try to be patient with yourself, my friend. And of course, I know exactly what you mean. I think that you and I live on the same wave-length.
So, for me, it’s when I’m disciplined that I’m most happy. I literally try and schedule in what gives me peace and what makes me feel “balanced”. I write it down on the calender in a timeslot. And I try to treat it like a task that is no less important than work, or a doctor’s appt, or…you know, pushing my bare private parts against the neighbor’s window while they’re having lunch.
This doesn’t always work for me, but when it does, I feel so much more grounded.
June 1st, 2008 at 6:21 pm
“Practicality has a way of diminishing the passion we feel.” So true, flutter. The balance of practical and passion is a delicate act.
June 1st, 2008 at 10:33 pm
I see some garage singing in your future.
do it.
seriously.
get a piece back. start with one piece.
and watch it grow and blossom.
June 2nd, 2008 at 8:56 am
Baby, I thought they broke the mold when they made you!
Seriously, why do you feel you have to conform? I’m going to tell you what I tell my kids: embrace your inner weird. Conformity never really fits through the hips for me!
June 2nd, 2008 at 12:08 pm
Ahhhh, how I understand this feeling, babe. I do.
Molds are made to be broken. They never give you balance, they just compress all that originality and creativity into a ball that shouldn’t be found in nature.
Sometimes you have to say “fuck it” to everything to discover what’s most important. Hang in there, babe. ((hugs))
June 3rd, 2008 at 12:24 pm
That last paragraph: I TOTALLY get. But is it us or is it a function of aging?