Me, a few days ago: “Jesus, I’m tired.” In whatever we do in life, there is always that one moment of thought that creeps up into our minds that says “I am exhausted.”
The last 10 years or so, day in and day out, I have had food in my face. Whether it be menu planning, recipe development, research on technique, presentation, and taste, magazine and cookbook inspiration, going to sleep with cookbooks, pens, and meal schedules on my bed, grocery shopping, cooking, catering, burning my food, burning my arms, cutting my fingers, carpel tunnel flare-up…. there has always been food or something related to cooking in my face and on my mind. I am indeed human and have those moments (although far and few between) I just want to take a break from it all. There are times I would be okay if I never had to walk into another grocery store again.. and then, I start to wish for something greater, bigger, the “next level” to make me reach for something more.
By putting my hands into so many other projects, I am constantly trying to chase that next level of excitement about what I do…still working on my memoir/cookbook, trying to keep up with this blog all the while wondering if anyone even reads this shit, and working on a line of spice blends to market… I am cramming more onto my “plate” and exhausting myself.
Then, Mark Manson’s article The Disease of More , fell into my lap. I realized I am not that “artist” who has to constantly have something new and exciting going on to make me feel better about myself or, as Mark puts it, “self-improvement as a glorified hobby.” I’m already there. I am already doing what I love. I worked my ass off to get where I am and I just so happen to love what I do. Working toward more goals and dreams right now could get in the way of what I have already accomplished. I have got to stop worrying about me and put my focus back into others…take what I do, continue to share it with others, put smiles on the faces who take in the nourishment I have prepared…just get people excited about food, cooking and eating again and again and again. In the end, the rest will fall into place on its own.