This entire post - what may be the first post on this blog - came to me while standing at the sink washing bottles (that my two year old definitely shouldn’t still be using, but we do what works 'round these parts). I guess there’s something thought provoking about having the outer layers of your hands scalded off while trying to scrub away almond milk residue. It really started with my thoughts about washing the bottles…what a mundane task. How many more important things were there that I could be doing with my time? Anybody can wash bottles. It’s not like I’m performing brain surgery. I’m not out saving the world, one nipple at a time. These won't be the bottles used to feed the hungry of the world!! How could I possibly spend my time doing such a menial task? And yet, at the same time, how can I feel so at peace and centered while doing so? Why is it that when I’m doing these simple things, the things no one sees, no one gives praise for, the things that don’t really warrant any outside acknowledgement whatsoever, do I feel like I’m doing the things that are the most important? When I’m starting a load of laundry in the morning before waking my babes up to begin getting ready for the school day. When I’m prepping a batch of my kids’ favorite protein pancakes or bone broth mac and cheese. When I’m matching my husband’s socks that somehow all look the same and yet never make an actual pair. When I’m spending three dang days going through the entire process required for baking the perfect sourdough boule for my family to enjoy, freshly made with whatever meal I’ve prepared for dinner.
Sourdough. What a trendy thing, eh? I got into it well after the COVID craze. I’m not even sure what struck my interest. One day I just decided I was going to make my own starter. So I mixed together some flour and water and several days later, after feeding and discarding and monitoring room temperature and moisture content and air exposure and what I was wearing when I fed her and how many clouds were in the sky that day and what true crime podcast I was listening to and how loud my kids were yelling in the kitchen and blah blah blah, I had a jar of paste. It took me several times to get the thing going, but once I did, I was immediately hooked and churning out multiple loaves a day. There was something about the process – this slow, intentional method that forced me to be patient to see the end results, end results that I might not even be satisfied with! But it took away the constant need for instant gratification and reminded me of what it’s like to truly wait on something, like when I was 12 and saw Titanic in theater and knew I needed that soundtrack more than anything in the world but first had to wait until I saved up $20 then had to wait until someone would take me to Walmart so I could purchase the CD then had to wait the entire drive home to listen because there was no way my mom was “listening to that crap” in the car then had to wait the additional 167 minutes it took to peel the film off the CD case along with all the adhesive strips before finally putting it into my 3 disc CD changer and experiencing the blissful magic of those beautiful bagpipes, the angelic oooooohs and aaaaahs, and of course, Celine. I’ve really digressed here, but the point is: there isn’t much to wait on these days. The simple act of baking sourdough brought back this little bit of delayed gratification, and all for a loaf bread. Bread! That’s it. Not even close to Celine’s chill-inducing runs. Just a basic loaf of bread. A loaf of bread that I spent roughly 36 hours to make, focusing my energy and attention into something created with my own two hands to nourish my family – the people who mean more to me than anything in the world.
For the better part of my adult years, I’ve experienced a lot of cognitive dissonance regarding where I should place my energies. My focus. My time. The world has this template of what a successful life looks like. A beautiful family, a high paying career, a long list of degrees and certifications, a gorgeous custom built home, a philanthropic portfolio that would make Mother Theresa balk, one of those ice machines that makes hospital ice, a fridge full of food that has been relocated from its original packaging to color coded glass containers and organized according to the color spectrum, a car that talks to you while driving itself to your desired location as it gives you a mani-pedi, a unicorn… I’ve vacillated between pursuing “the dream” and silencing all that external noise to follow the gentle pulls and tugs at my own heart, and I’ve found they are two very different directions. Now I’m not here to tell you how you should be living your life. I’m 38 years old and I still don’t know how I should be living mine. I believe there are as many ways to live as there are people in this world and it’s best to do and prioritize what makes the most sense for you and your family. But for me, I’ve come to realize that I just don’t care about a lot of the things that are considered to be the stereotypical definition of “success.” And that can be really difficult at times. When you find that your energy is best spent focusing on none of the things you're encouraged to focus on – investing primarily in what goes on within the four walls of your home as well as within your own heart and mind – it’s very rare that anyone is ever going to notice or recognize your wins and successes. And in a world with social media, aka external validation’s playground, it’s really hard to see everyone doing all these big and amazing things and still feel "enough," when you’re just at home, washing bottles.
A couple things here. If you’re doing all the things and just kicking ass all the time, able to balance both the internal and the external stuff without feeling like you're going absolutely bananas, kudos!!!!! I think you’re amazing. If you’re more like me and you say “no” to a lot, because you’ve found you are forced to make compromises you’re not willing to make in order to keep up with it all, that’s amazing, too. I often have to remind myself that the work I’m doing is important. I have to remind myself that even though I could be using naptime to write a best selling novel, invent a new product to get toddlers to sleep through the night (someone please do this for me – I’ll be your first customer), crochet hats for the needy, learn how to crochet so I can crochet hats for the needy, etc. etc. etc., it's still of value to be spending it washing bottles. Because when we get home from the afterschool extracurricular rush and everyone is hungry and has homework and they’re fighting and they want snacks even though it’s almost dinner time and there’s a missing folder from a backpack and someone forgot their library book and my two year old is running around like an actual maniac from the overstimulation, I will have a clean bottle to quickly grab and fill up with almond milk so she can take five minutes in the living room while I take five minute in the kitchen with the big kids to get them settled, and I’ve set in motion a better, more peaceful evening routine that supports me being a more patient, kinder mother and creating an environment where my children are more inclined to unwind from their busy day so we can eventually sit down and enjoy dinner together. Just kidding – they aren’t going to eat anything I’ve prepared and still will have the audacity to ask for a snack 11 minutes after we finish clearing the dinner table. But for real: we create an enormous ripple effect with the simple things – even as mundane as washing bottles. So I suppose all of this is a roundabout way of saying that you don’t have be doing all the things all the time. You don’t have to be fighting forest fires and saving endangered species to be making an impact. (But if you are, you're awesome!) You can just spend some time reading to your kid. Do a load of laundry. Heck – make a loaf of sourdough. Because at the end of the day, no matter what you’re doing, you’re already Naturally Doughp. ~ Audra