how many times do we look at the same things in life- over and over and over and over - again,
and never really SEE them.
hey humble piece of chocolatey goodness.
I like to bake you.
I love to eat you.
now I'm gonna talk about you.
you're just a cookie.
but you're so much more.
when your Grandma makes it, it's not just a cookie; it's a labor of love, a token that connects you to her.
when it's a cookie on the plate of someone who struggles with and eating disorder, who ate it without guilt or anxiety, perhaps for the first time- it's a non-scale victory, a smack in the face of the terror an ED can create in our lives.
when you've goofed and make a batch for an estranged friend, it becomes a peace offering to begin your attempt to bridge the gap.
when the cookie is made from a recipe that was the first recipe created and published by a budding chef.....it's a piece of triumph, a trophy- something to celebrate and remember.
when they're hot and fresh from the oven and filling your house with the most delicious aroma, it's a reminder that the 'aroma' of my life and actions reach further than I imagine.....good or bad.
if you've spaced and made the entire batch with cake flour, it becomes a hockey puck that is suitable for an Olympic gold medal match.
if you've settled for the store-bought pre-packaged type, it's a reminder that the best things in life can't be bought.
when it's crumbly and a bit dry- just absolutely perfect topping for your ice cream, it's a reminder that imperfections are to be embraced, not fought.
open your eyes.
what will you see differently today?