hafacenturyncounting

Motivated by a lack of material.

When It Just Stopped Being Fun

I cannot remember the moment, but one day I recall there was no more joy attached to it. Then there was a sense of emptiness. I didn’t know why. When I finally put my finger on it, there was the feeling of loss. How does one recover from such a thing?

I am going to start with a positive and use it as a mechanism to get us thinking. Cooking… now our generation grew up with some fabulous cooks. We will say mother, grandmother, aunts,  sisters,  for starters(because I realize there are some fathers in this list as well). It was important for us to be able to cook and these ladies saw to it that we did. My family had some great cooks. We had Sunday dinners that were reminiscent of the ones depicted in the movie “Soul Food”. Two of my childhood friends fathers were great cooks in  their own rights.  To say that cooking and food surrounded my life would be an understatement. I  have cooked and baked since I was about 10 years old.

A natural deduction would be I must be a pretty good cook as well, that would be correct. Another one would be I must enjoy cooking, that would be incorrect. You see I was an overweight child; but that didn’t turn me against cooking, if anything it motivated me to do it more and more often. Later I married a man who did not object to cooking, and often took it upon himself to cook because of our working hours. I will give this point as contributory. However, my not enjoying cooking stemmed from what stated this entire dialog.. It just stopped being FUN. Cooking is an art, a talent. It is for sustenance and pleasure. A way of sharing feelings, if you will. It can be sensual, down right joyful, and let’s not forget the all important it just plain tastes good.

What began to happen was I attached a negative to a positive. The food tasted good but it was work,the food tasted good but it put on weight, the food tasted good but there was an easier way to feed the family. The negative took over and won. Instead of finding reasons to cook, I gravitated to the reasons not to. Without warning it happened and it stopped being what it used to be pleasurable, joyous, fun. The purpose still existed, but it was all too serious now.

Acknowledging all the things we experience in our lives are NOT going to bring a smile to our face or a sense of joy in our heart, but some of those the things that can should. Otherwise, they just become yet another task.

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