Something Different

Today's post is not a recipe or a photo journal, its a short story about how quickly we can evolve beyond our limitations by challenging them head on, taking action, and pushing our edge.

This is a short talk I gave at the end of a two and a half day public speaking class that I took earlier this month. Thanks to Berg for listening to my fears before and during my class. Thanks to my classmates and instructors who helped me come so far - I continue to push my edge because of you.

Picture this: orange hair, racing heart, red face, sweaty palms, a trembling voice, and more than a measure of frustration. No I’m not talking about me two days ago, or even yesterday. I’m talking about me as a little girl in a party dress at a family event; clutching my dad’s leg just wanting it to be time to go home, not wanting to be there at all.

Then, as now, I struggled to communicate in groups, family events included. My family…well they’re not your average family….my family events are comprised of lawyers, politicians, journalists, professors, and even an ambassador. A pretty intimidating bunch who made it hard for a little girl to get a word in edgewise.

I spent a lot of time at family events in the kitchen, perched on a chair checking things out. There wasn’t a lot of talk in the kitchen, but there was a ton of communication. There was the crisp golden bird that just came out of the oven saying, “I need a rest.” There were the steaming browned roles, yeasty scent telling you that they were ready. The stuffing was just hanging out saying, “I can wait, I’m good. I’m ready when you are.”

Then there were the mechanics of it all, of what was going on in the kitchen. The shine of the pots and pans, the movement of the boards and the knives, and the people bustling around – this cacophony of sound and action, with almost no words. All these things came together communicating, the food was talking to the people, the pots were talking to the food, and somehow a meal happened. I really found a lot of comfort in that chaos. The quiet hum that was underneath all of it was so soothing to me. I loved being a part of that.

I grew up a quiet kid in a family of accomplished orators. I turned out to be a pretty awkward adolescent, and found my self as a young adult without a lot of focus, having trouble finding where I was supposed to be. Then I found food, and with that my voice.

I don’t really know which came first, my passion for food or my ability to communicate through it. I do know that somehow it became my vehicle for connecting. It became my Hallmark Card, my “thinking of you,” my “happy birthday.” It became my safe place and my outlet.

It became my greatest challenge - I have a group of friends with food aversions that you would not believe. Its so much fun to invite them all over for dinner and have a good meal that’s vegetarian, gluten free, shellfish free and contains no nuts. The best part is when no one realizes that that is what they’re eating, they just enjoy it.

Food has been my ‘not so secret crush’ for years. I love it.. I mean I LOVE it. (My husband knows I love it, he’s ok with that.) Food is also my soap box, its been my opportunity to speak up about what I believe, about sustainability, about organics and responsible eating.

Obviously, I can talk for hours about food, its impact on me, my path, and my planet. But that’s not really what’s relevant today. What’s relevant today is that I don’t need food for this anymore. After some decades and two and a half grueling days of class…I think I’m starting to find my other voice. Thank you.