Sometimes I get these cauliflower products or recipes and they are delicious, like cauliflower pizza crust. Sometimes, though, even with my best culinary attempts, the best I can come up with is well roasted, seasoned, tasty, well, cauliflower. Today was a yummy, roasted, cheesy cauliflower day. There was a time when I would have tried to force myself to taste something that was not there, denying to the end that it tasted like what it was because there had to have been something wrong with me when there is nothing wrong. Sometimes cauliflower tastes like what it is. It can’t taste stellar all of the time, can it? I wish it could, but would I recognize the pizza deliciousness if it was all that I had? Maybe life is like that, too.
Almost two weeks ago I was talking to my mom about all of the plates I have – and keep – in the air, when she said, “You don’t have to accomplish everything.”
I have been thinking about that because I have found myself at a weird tension since a few months before this pandemic, and to be honest, a lot of things feel more like a continuation as opposed to a complete upheval. The tension part comes in because I have had to step back from a lot of things I am passionate about achieving to retool for the long haul, and that is hard for me because when I decide to do something, it gets done. and. then. some.
I guess it will have to get done more slowly and strategically, because while I have definitely been changed by the past four or five months, parts of me still have catching up to do.
Which is absolutely nothing new for living in the Pacific Northwest. Even during the first week of July, and that is wrong, but I opened a lot of the blinds as far as I could so I could shake that cave feeling from not having enough light. It was still dreary. I moved through my day getting things done and taking notes to get other things done. Then, around 6:30pm cracks started to form in the sky to show the blue that was just beyond our cloud layer the whole time. I bolted outside under the guise of picking up a package but it was really to assure myself that Summer was really here because I needed something to be at least normal in theory in these Covid streets.
It is difficult for me to believe that Saturday is going to be the 4th of July. My life is unrecognizable when I attempt to look back twelve months, much less 18 or 24. I still have hope. I still have joy. But so much is so different. I am truly sorry for the things I took for granted, but with each quiet moment I am making peace with permanent losses so I can be prepared for the opportunities that I know lie ahead.