If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time, you can guess what my state of mind has been like this last week and why I wound up skipping a blog post.

I’m not going to go over the recent election here except to say that while I’m frustrated and disappointed, I’m not wholly surprised. That can also be said for the anti-Jewish pogroms that seem to be all the rage in Europe again. Clearly going “vintage” doesn’t just mean aesthetics anymore- it also covers racial violence, and several groups appear to be giving 1939.

The Outrage and Angst Machines are running full tilt and their product remains what it always has been- Fear and Exhaustion, getting dumped into our lives faster than ever.

The idea is not to drown us, but to make it so we drown ourselves. To make us isolate ourselves in fear of everyone and everything and burn out all our energy over The Next Big Bummer so we’ll throw up our hands, sit down, shut up, and get on with dying quietly.

“Engage with the world around you at your own risk,” it all yells at us from the TV, from our phones, from stickers and posters and placards and screaming strangers. “Better and safer to Trust Us, give us your money and voices, and let us tell you who to hate today while we swaddle you in little luxuries. You can even choose which ones.”

That doesn’t sound so bad when you think about it either. The whole world- all of living- is One Long Fucking Bummer, isn’t it? The Buddha even said “All life involves suffering,” and he didn’t even have to stand in line at the post office or pay for a tank of gas to get to work. Even with all our advantages and development, we still have issues talking things out. Our friends leave us. Loved ones die, strangers lie, and the Good Guys don’t always win. We hate to feel vulnerable because we’ve told ourselves vulnerability is weakness… but it’s also where we live, and it just feels easier to live there alone.

Why not make it easier on ourselves? Disengage with the Bummer- just wrap ourselves in food, movies, booze, and anything that keeps us from having to think, and just let it all go to shit.

Why not indeed? Because we can’t numb selectively.

Disengaging from life means disengaging from ALL of it, and no amount of artificial contentment could make losing all the real joy of life and the connection that comes with the sorrow and pain to make it worth it. Leonard Cohen told us, “There is a crack in everything- that’s how the light gets in.”

The pain, sorrow, and frustration with a world that seems hellbent on going sideways is no joke though, so how do we find balance? By zooming in. We cling to small moments, small joys, and each other, and remind ourselves for each and every one of them “This is worth it. This is worth saving. This is worth dealing with the rest.”

If there’s one job that’s custom-made for “zooming in,” it’s baking. Beyond the “Way of the Floured Hand” and “Wisdom of Pie,” I’ve written about before, so much of baking involves noticing and appreciating small things.

In the winery, I’ve been given clearance to work on some more confectionery treats for the holidays. Fall has always been my favorite season for baking in terms of the flavors, memories, and emotions that can be conjured up with the right bite at the right time.

Even as the whole world felt like it was sliding sideways, I could still hold on to the kitchen as my sanctuary– where my capacity and worth could never be denied or questioned, and my belonging is not just absolute but of my own making.

In that kitchen, I could lose myself for a moment in the sound and smell of gently simmering butter with rosemary sprigs and wonder about the applications of an herb-infused caramel sauce. The soul-healing scent of warming spices and sugar tossed in hot apples as I prepared the filling for galettes could only complement the toasty funk of cheddar cheese in the oven as I baked the crisps to go on top.

From the whir of a food processor to the firm, direct kneading of the pie dough to create flaky layers that can be seen even before the dough is baked, it’s all there, all worth it, and all bent toward the simplest, purest, next-good-thing act of feeding people and making them happy.

When you bake- or just create anything, for that matter- it puts the lie to feeling powerless. “What can I do against the onslaught of nightmares?” Biscuits, motherfucker. I can make damn good biscuits. The guarantee of effectiveness comes in the form of handing them off to others feeling ground under the Great Machine. I got to make even the most simple buttermilk biscuits for my co-workers, hand them over, and watch each of them take a bite and say to themselves “This is worth it. This is worth saving. This is worth dealing with the rest.”

I don’t expect to save the world with biscuits and caramel… but a world with those things has to be worth engaging with and maybe saving, doesn’t it?

Stay Classy,