Saturday Evening, I Lost Count of How Many Times I Paused the Cooking Video

On Saturday evening I decided not to eat what I always ate. For weeks it had been instant noodles or delivery. So I didn't even go shopping. I set my phone up beside the sink and played a video, meaning to cook something new with the tofu and green onions left in the fridge. It said twenty minutes.

The person in the video had quick hands. Chopping the onion, cutting the tofu, and oiling the pan took less time than it took me to tie my apron strings. I hadn't even cut half of one onion stalk, and on screen the pan was already heating. I pressed pause. I played it again and pressed it again. Around the third time, I stopped counting how many times it had been.

The tofu half crumbled in the pan, and the onions were cut in all different thicknesses. Looking at them, my face went hot for no reason. A thought rose up: can't I even manage this much? Even though nobody in the video was looking at me.

Learning at My Own Pace

I turned down the heat, switched the phone screen, and opened still().

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you will find rest for your souls.

Matthew 11:29 (WEB)

"Gentle and humble in heart." It struck me as odd, and it stayed with me, that the teacher would introduce himself that way first. The person in the video was fast, but it wasn't the video that was rushing me, it was me. It occurred to me that learning might not be about catching up to the pace of someone ahead of you, but about walking at my own pace beside a gentle person. Reading it doesn't make my cooking any better. Still, the tension I'd been holding in my shoulders eased a little.

I didn't play the video again. I put the rest of the green onions on the cutting board and sliced them slowly. I decided not to fuss over the uneven thickness. I tasted it, and it was a little bland, so I added another pinch of salt. The way it looked in the bowl was very different from the video, but the steam rose just the same.

I sat at the table and took a spoonful. A dish that was supposed to take twenty minutes had taken forty. Maybe next week I could try something else.

Today's Breath — Do one clumsy thing today at half your usual speed, and when it's done, breathe out slowly once.