light is harder…
In cooking terms ‘beat until light‘ denotes hard work.
Whenever I see this collection of words, sitting stout within an otherwise comforting recipe, I will almost religiously move on.
No sir, I do not have the time, nor the physical capacity to whisk my day away for the sake of fluffy gateau, or a satiny hollandaise. Really, the pressure is too much…and there aren’t enough eggs in the world to cater for my potential mis-haps.
For me, being in the kitchen is a no-brainer. When I enter the kitchen, I am King. I go in there to play; when I’m hungry, when husband is hungry, when I need reflection, when I need confidence, when I want to entertain or to make someone feel good (including myself).
I am afraid, my foodie friends, that none of the aforementioned prophecies would be fulfilled in the slightest by ‘beating until light’.
A sore wrist, a dirty floor, a bruised ego, a kicked cat, and possibly a sweet omelette, is all you’ll find in my kitchen after I’ve attempted a power-whisking session.
It is labouring. It takes skill and it takes persistence to create lightness.
I understand this about cooking. I dont question it. I despise it, I avoid it, but I get it.
In life, however, this seems harder to accept.
I am often being accused by my dearly loved kin that I am ‘getting too heavy’. ..You’re all familiar with the demand, ‘lighten up’. HA! Like it’s just that easy. Like I am trying really hard to be heavy… and if I just stopped trying so hard to be heavy, I could ‘lighten up’. Simple as that. Pah!
By the way, I am not always heavy. In fact to meet me, and in the elementary stages of a relationship, I would be assumed to be incredibly light. But what you may not realise is this takes energy, to remain above it, to escape from my heaviness, to ignore my powerful brain and be bubbly like a well-beaten egg mix. I can’t manage this all the time.
“what happened to that flighty girl I met?”
This was an accusation from my first boyfriend that still rings in my head to this day.
It seemed a compliment to me at age 19. I felt like I was maturing and he was noticing. But it wasn’t you know. It wasn’t a compliment, because I remember the context of the conversation too, and I was being heavy.
I can be too heavy. We all can.
And it isn’t fun, it isn’t productive, and it isn’t good to be around.
Now, before I go on, please do not mistake my heavy with deep. There is a huge difference.
I want to remain deep, I want to remain curious, and serious even. I have no problem with my depth, I will even attempt to go deeper…What I do not wish to be anymore, is heavy, a burdensome girl, a girl with thoughts so solid they’ll shorten my neck through the shear weight of them; a drag-myself-around, brow-furrowed, headache on a pair of legs; Heavy. Not anymore.
So, how does one remove this weight? You guessed it, this will not be a piece of cake. Just like in the kitchen, It will take labour, skill and persistence. It is not an easy task to be rid of the burden, to become light, to lift the weight.
However, I intend to find the skills to achieve this. I will practice these skills until I have rid myself of my heavy nature. Or at least learnt to contain it.
While I’m at it, I will also find the skills and determination in the kitchen, to make things light. I will practice these skills, I will beat and beat, whisk and whisk. Yes, believers, I am going to make Hollandaise! I am going to stock up on eggs, strap up my wrist and have some voltaren on hand.. I will not leave the kitchen until my hollandaise is silky and perfect, no matter how little I enjoy it.
And then, I will get out into that world, with hollandaise still on my lips, if so shall it be, and I will find the lightness.
I will begin meditation classes. I will learn the art of stillness and clear thoughts. I’ll tackle my ponderous head; my dense, cloudy cranium. I’ll start to lift it. I’ll develop the skills to remain above it.
I will fill my head with air if I have to, I’ll whisk and I ‘ll beat.
mission: to join a meditation class
I will beat until light.
I said it today.