I finally have time to write! School has begun, house is in de-summerfying process, and life is slowly but surely returning to a less hectic routine (at least until school hours are over and -chauffeur-ing begins!).
And then…the unthinkable…my computer goes down.
So today I hijacked the hubby’s computer for a few moments to write down a few possibly (possibly not) coherent thoughts:
I have been contemplating the word “brave” lately. It occurred to me last week when I decided (after much hemming and hawing) to finally attempt a homemade pie crust. My mom always makes delicious homemade pies and I have wanted to attempt my own crust-making, but have found excuses not to for years. It’s silly, right? I mean, it’s pie. Come on, Becky, what’s the big deal?!
And then I realized that the pie crust is really just a metaphor (I ‘member that word from my school days.) for trying new things. I have a feeling that this occurs more and more with age, but as I am turning the big 4-0 next March and am not ready to face all of that just yet, I am just going to say that being busy with kids and life makes it harder and harder to try new things; to reach beyond the familiar; to be brave.
It is super easy to get mired into what is comfortable and worn…like sitting in the same spot on that cozy couch or pulling out the same faded sweatshirt. Not that these are bad things! Store- bought crusts and cozy couches and comfy sweatshirts certainly have their value in our lives (at least mine.)! But it keeps our mind growing, our heart expanding, our soul thriving to seek out – and TRY – those new things. New experiences, whether deemed successful or FAIL(ures) are important for continued growth and… being alive.
With all that said (or I supposed, “typed”), my cherry pie with homemade crust turned out… wait for it… GREAT!
My family LOVED it and it was gone within one day! (And NOT just because I devoured it myself.) Hooray! And the peach pie I made this week turned out pretty yummy, too. Who knew?! But the success of the pies was not the reason for the happy dance performed shamelessly in the kitchen while covered with flour. And those pies were not the reason for my overwhelming, soul-satisfying happiness that lasted…well, honestly it only lasted until the kids came home that day with their usual whining, aches, pains, and needs. The reason I felt so light, so happy was because I took a chance. I branched out of my all-too-cozy comfort zone and was… brave.
Thank you, Cherry Pie. Thank you.