Sometimes I bite off much more than I can chew. I guess we all do, but I wonder why I do it over and over. It’s like I don’t learn from past experience. Very easily, I tend to forget to take on little bit at a time, savour every last bit and make it count. Instead I pile it on like a woman gone crazy. I try and over-achieve. And that could have very well been the theme for last week. With the emphasis on try. Because try as I did, I just couldn’t follow through. My mind was willing, but the flesh? Not so much. And what that usually results in is a giant crack between thought and action. You know what that means?
A sh*tload of incomplete work.
But the weekend is not meant for pondering over such things. That’s why we go to work. To make to-do lists, to try and get them done, to strike things off with aplomb. But the weekend, is not meant for such heavy things like accomplishment, sense of purpose and achievement. And once in a while, believe it or not, I give in to this school of thought. I give in to sloth. To days of incredible inertia. To letting things be. To shutting off and taking a nap bang in the middle of the day, for no apparent reason.
Sometimes it’s in moments of extreme simplicity, that I realise just what it takes to be happy.
In a state of limbo. My mind drawing a blank.
In succumbing to a chocolate craving at 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning.
In the coming together of little everyday things, the perfect mix, melting into one big swirly bowl of bliss.
In conquering a fear. And in discovering a new trick.
I made ganache this morning, you guys.
And it was all that and more. The instant, simple fix for a chocolate craving you cannot ignore. As I chopped up the cooking chocolate and heated the cream just so, I wondered why we have these moments. These unreasonable, irrational needs. Then I poured the cream over the chocolate and watched the two blend into one inseparable mass of deliciousness, and I realised why.
Because deep down, beneath our over-achieving, sense-of-accomplishment-crazed selves, I guess we’re all little children. And sometimes we just want chocolate. Even if it’s 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning.