we all seek to find a portion of comfort in the face of harsh challenges, new places, life-changing events and sometimes just a simple day's work. it's just our nature. my son, at three, is still firmly attached to his pacifier and chi-chi blanket. we need our comforts. i'm in no hurry to remove his from him. i am confident that the day will come that he will no longer require them, but will certainly find new sources of solace in the face of life's struggles.
seems there are things, though, you just don't outgrow. some for better. others for worse.
last weekend i attended my first conference of fellow food lovers. we all write blogs. it was a fantastic feeling to be in a room full of others very much like me. each of us so desiring to shout from the rooftops (or maybe just our computer screens) the joy and beauty and life that is in the very food we eat. with our own unique megaphones, we all wanted to tell the same story. each qualified in a special way, as an artist, a story-teller, or a home-maker, to celebrate the human experience of eating. this eat write retreat truly was a time of inspiration.
but, in crept rude, silly insecurities. whizzing me back to the fragile days of junior high. isn't it strange, how when you least expect it those insecurities reappear and can make you believe such funny things... doubting purpose and talent and self.
comfort came to me in a quilt of words. patched by many, not even knowing. tricia shared with me that she viewed the dangerous act of comparing to be a violent move to make against yourself. why we all do it, i don't know... it surely is not extending kindness to ourselves. monica reminded us to release those fears and doubts. we must speak with our own unique and valuable voices. and perhaps most moving were the words spoken by shauna. in her strong, reassuring voice she implored us to do what we love, only because we love it and to help others. to not be driven only by perceived successes of page views, subscribers or even book deals, but to maintain foremost the joys of sharing, community and creativity.
this retreat provided for me not only a priceless connection to many extraordinary people, a belly-full of fantastic meals and literal bags-full of exciting kitchen goodies, but mostly an assurance and vision of what i dream this space to be. (thank you, thank you, robyn & casey.)
consolation and comfort can come in many forms. a child's pacifier. a quilt of words. and for me, always, a warm chocolate chunk cookie.
this recipe was adapted from this phenomenal coastal living recipe.
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