Cookin’ Up Some Word-Stew
Writing is a lot like cooking.

Sometimes you have great ingredients: a funny anecdote, a poignant memory, an insight, a dream. You have these wonderful bits that when mixed with your wordsmithing genius should result in something grand.
But if you fail to season it well, or heat it to the right degree, the meal can fall flat.
Other times, you feel like you’ve got nothing in the brain-pantry, but the pressure of a deadline can pull something quite tasty together. That happened to me many times while writing a weekly wellness column.
I’d think all week on what to write, come up short, and 45 minutes before my deadline, something great would emerge. I’d hit “send” for the email submission to my editor, sit back, and think, “Damn, how’d I do that?”
Is it intent? Heart? That all powerful thing self-help gurus call, “Purpose?”
I’m not sure. And doubt I’ll get to an answer as I write this. I’m just kind of charmed by the analogy.
What I do know, is that for the last 8 months, I haven’t wanted to even set foot in the kitchen.
My life took one of those lurching steps forward. A lot happened, much changed. I had great ingredients.
But every time my brain was bursting with insights that normally would have me at my keyboard, mixing and typing and anticipating serving my readers something good, I hesitated. My “little voice” said…Not yet.
I marinated in my insights.
Instead of taking the “A-ha” moments, flash frying them and serving them up, I decided to let the flavor of things develop more fully, to make them a part of me and deepen my understanding.
This is a new tact for me. Like many writers and teachers (funny how so many of us our both,) I usually take some new amazing bit of information or understanding and share, share, share. I go into output mode before things have a chance to gel.
Not this time.
This time, I took time. To stir, to sniff, to sample. I’d ask myself, “Will this taste better if I let it simmer longer, let the knowledge steep?”
I come back to the page with great anticipation of what may come forth. The aroma in the kitchen of my mind is tantalizing!
I broke all the “rules” of being a writer in these digital times. I didn’t serve my readers anything for a long stretch. Not even an amuse bouche of a sweet little paragraph. I didn’t want to serve you slop.
For those of you reading this. Thank you for your patience. You’re table is ready and the chef hopes you’ll be delighted by what is to come.

