Most Resolutions revolve around either doing something that you don’t actually want to do – go to the gym, eat more salads and vegetables, drink more water…
Or, they revolve around eliminating something from your life – cut out sugar, cut out junk, cut out bread and wheat, reduce your intake of meat…watch less TV, spend less time on Facebook…
I hope all the recent festivities were excellent and that you had time with wonderful company during this time.
This is the time of year when you’ve probably set a couple of New Year’s Resolutions and are trying hard to stick to them.
Or maybe you are still trying to decide what to have as your Resolution.
Some people wait until the beginning of Spring before picking – new blooms, new ideas, new beginnings!
And others just don’t believe in them – fair do’s, there’s a lot of pressure around them; not necessarily from other people, but pressure you’re putting on yourself not to slip up, to be diligent – nose to the grindstone, out at the gym every night or every other night, cutting out sugar or reducing your salt intake…and all that jazz.
I just want to take a step back and have a look at what New Years Resolutions are for a minute.
They’re goals. Future promises to yourself. A desire crystalised into something actionable.
I gotta ask you another question:
Because any goal, not just New Years’ Resolutions, is based on a future outcome – you can’t guarentee for sure that the goal you’ve set, and the path you’ve set to it, will be fulfilled.
Good grief, it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. After my friend’s sudden death in the middle of the year I just wanted to retreat, hide, recover.
So, um, I did.
I’m still recovering. To a much lesser extent than I was back in July. But still recovering, still grieving. Maybe it’ll never entirely go away, but I find more ways to live.
What brings me back out of hiding is that:
A – I miss writing, and
B – I wanted to share something with you.
(Please don’t start singing “Memories” from Cats, or I’ll set Missy onto you!)
People often ask, “when a great oak falls in the woods, does anyone notice if nobody’s there to hear it?”
I believe that just because you’re not there to hear it doesn’t mean that others who live near it can’t feel it. When it falls, the vibrations can be felt by all life close to it.
I believe it’s the same when someone who touched your life also falls. You might not be there to hear it, but the vibrations can be felt throughout your community.
Robin Williams died this week in what has been reported as suicide due to depression. Earlier this year, we also lost the wonderful L’Wren Scott to depression, whose timeless designs and enduring elegance I have always admired since I first saw her work in Harper’s Bazaar at least 6 years ago.
Of course, it highlights the need for continued work on depression and related diseases, but it just strikes me as saddening that we have to lose cherished figures in the public eye for it to be brought to wider awareness.
For both Robin and L’Wren, and for everyone else who is suffering and who has been touched by this disease:
I’ve spoken before about how important Home is to me.
It’s the feeling of Home, the feeling of Belonging somewhere, which somewhat haunts me. A lot of us who are born with dual cultures or more tend to struggle with finding out place in the world – not always belonging in the country/countries you grew up in, not always belonging to your blood countries.
This can all make you feel somewhat “Homeless”.
People find or make their homes in different ways: creating a family; finding a country that agrees most with tier principles and values; for others, Home is within, it’s in their hearts.
Recently, a wonderful woman called Hiro Boga reposted this blog post about The Art of Belonging, and she really hit the nail on the head with this:
– See more at: http://hiroboga.com/blog/
I had an impromptu visit to Aberaeron in Wales last weekend (lovely and sleepy little place just south of Aberwystwyth on the Welsh coast, worth staying in). We were meant to be picking up half a motorbike nearby, but this fell through, so we settled for cocktails and good food at a seaside sunset instead:
Crab risotto, spicy beef salad, and an appletini and an espresso martini to chase it down.
I often feel a little guilty when going to the seaside, because I just don’t get particularly excited about the sea like a lot of people tend to.
So after a big and wonderful breakfast, I went out on my own to get face to face with the sea. Maybe if I appreciate it more, maybe if I get right up close to it and see the wonders of it, I’ll finally see and feel the excitement that others feel.
This is what we are taught as little kids – we have to prove ourselves.
This is what we tell our celebrities, politicians, companies big and small, CEOs, management, doctors, nurses, acquaintances, potential lovers…
There’s a paradox in this though:
So we’ve been told (for several years in other countries, by the looks of it) that we should not wash meat before cooking because it doesn’t “clean” it, it just spreads the bacteria and gunk onto other surfaces in the kitchen, like the sink, and our hands, and the chopping boards, and the window sill, or anywhere the droplets might go.
Various health bodies also acknowledge that those of us who either:
…most likely will ignore their advice and carry on washing meat.
And yes, I fall into the latter category: I will continue to wash meat that I’m preparing because it just tastes so much better.
Sorry for being away for a while suddenly, I’ve had burn-out.
I had been pushing too hard for too long, and after a sudden rush of illnesses in May, I had to slam the brakes and heed my mama’s orders to stay with her for a week while my dad went on the motorbike trip I was meant to go on with him, my uncle and a family friend.
So, on mama’s orders, I went to stay with her for a week.
(Because mum knows best – and she might be small, but defying her orders has scary consequences…)
Great celebrity chefs tell you what the original recipe is and how it came to be. If they publish a modification of a recipe, they tell you why they are changing it – to make it easier than the original without compromising on taste; or to modernise it if there are new ingredients that kick it up a notch; or to change the effect the dish has.
Then there are the other camp of celebrity chefs who will provide the minimum reference to a recipe, announce they’re going go show you “their version” (or not), and give you a recipe that will (hopefully) still taste good, but will ignore the political, cultural, historical, societal and personal significance that went into creating the original recipe – just so they can rubber stamp their name on it.
Maybe only the taste of food should matter.
But that’s like eating the icing on the cake and throwing the rest into the bin.
Cake deserves better.
And so do we.