So 2013 has gone by in a flash, and we are already hurtling towards the end of the second week of 2014. That’s two weeks down from the fifty-two we have in a year, and we all know that time isn’t quite a patient fellow, for it waits for no man. Before we know it, #52 would outstrip us by a mile and we would be so busy catching our breaths that we wouldn’t know what hit us in 2014. Ahh, pause, play, and repeat, I’m not sure about you but that is the story of my every year.
Perhaps, there is something about crossing over to the
wrong right side of 30s. Perhaps, it’s got to do with me being a mother. Perhaps, I’m just a little wiser than before. But this year, I’d like to do something different.
I’d like to make the every day count.
I don’t mean that I’d keep myself busy with the grandest plans every second of the day. And I don’t mean that I’d go climbing Mt Everest or sky-diving every chance I get to do so. Hell no, that would be completely exhausting, and unrealistic for a penguin like me. But I mean to say that I hope to work and rest meaningfully.
I’d like to keep my new hobbies sustainable – baking, plating/styling, writing, mastering western calligraphy. And whilst I would love to be recognised on a more professional level for these skills at some point, I would like to, even more so, soak up the lessons that come with these interests. I don’t mean making perfect cakes, creating the most beautiful dessert tables, penning the most illustrative thoughts, and nailing the perfect swells and hairlines (well yes, maybe I do want to strive towards achieving those things because that is the basis of self-improvement), but I want to learn patience and perseverance, to see beauty in imperfection, and I most certainly want to learn the art of letting go.
If you know me well enough in person, you’d realise how much of a pain in the ass I am. I see flaws in everything I work on. When something goes wrong, I am the first to blame…myself. No praise can make me feel like I have done a good job, because there isn’t such a thing as a good job, there is only the perfect masterpiece. And the biggest quirk is, I see perfection in what others have achieved, but not when I look at what I have done. A very strange double-edged sword, if you will, but yeap, that’s me you’re talking about.
It all stems from not being able to let go. Whilst this kink in my personality drives me to give my very best in anything I embark on and helped me to excel in most things that I have undertaken, it has blindsided me more than I care to admit. I get so caught up in the details, that I forget to step back and admire the big picture. I missed the opportunities to smile and laugh at the right moments, right being the ones that I should be sharing with the most important people in my life, and I realise now that this drive for perfection is also my greatest downfall.
I’d like to wear this down a little, and just be a little careless, care-less, if you know what I mean, so that I can enjoy the every day more and worry less about how things will turn out. And when I rest, I’d like to rest without guilt. I am trying to subscribe to the idea that it is alright to be idle for the sake of being idle, because we all need a little balance in our lives. Not to sound morbid, but it’s not like we’re going to be taking beautiful bakes, perfect penmanship and a fabulously-packed schedule to the grave; I sure hope to take memories with me instead, and yes, those imperfect moments often make the best of life’s snapshots. You know, like the smash cake I made that Faith DIDN’T smash on her first birthday, and the moment when hubby and I forgot to sign on the ROM register after exchanging our vows AND the first kiss as a married couple, even though I had everything planned to the nano-scale (and oh goodness, we had to do the ‘You may kiss the bride again’ again, awkward much!), and the browned butter cupcakes that I made that weren’t what I imagined them to be but were appreciated by my friends, Mag and Evonne, anyway. Little things like that that make me slightly uncomfortable, but oh-so-glad to be throwing my head back in laughter over.
The art of letting go. It’s not easy but I think acknowledging this makes for a fresh start. Now, onto the third week.
(Case-in-point below: There are so many flaws that I can point out on the cake AND the photo, but I’m not gonna, because I know I enjoyed making this for my family for our epic Christmas dinner party!)