Having a “gratitude” mindset, a “gratitude” practice, or an “attitude of gratitude” can sound and feel a little weird. For myself at least, I like the idea of mindfulness a bit more just because being mindful inevitably involves being grateful- for everything, every moment, every unique second of your life- without leaning into overly humble-sounding BS.
Maybe it’s a bit of a linguistic trick, but follow me on this- it’s hard to take things for granted when you realize they won’t last forever.
Where are you Matt?
What are you feeling?
Check in- what’s happening now?
This is the litany of questions that has gone through my head on repeat for the last few weeks. It’s one of the tools I use to ground and re-center myself when I catch my thoughts ruminating or spiraling.
You don’t “hate everything,” Matt. You are tired and sad. Hate and anger are easier to feel and parse than pain.
This is the other mantra I’ve found myself repeating over and over when I find myself slipping into depression. That’s been increasing over the last few months. The usual anxieties and tribulations of life seem to magnify themselves when you constantly poach yourself in a broth of bad news. It feels like everything hurts, and the world is too hard and painful to keep being kind in.
I insist on continuing to be kind, though.
My core values remain Patience and Compassion.
My “Way of the Floured Hand” dictates that “I choose love, I chose love, and I will always choose love.”
“It’s Chaos; Be Kind.”
I know that ideals like this will always be worth it in the end, always me– but that doesn’t mean it’ll always feel good.
Stepping back into the kitchen after time away feels like stepping into a warm bath. That is, up until you wonder how the water got hot and why it’s getting hotter from the bottom up.
Coming back from South Carolina and the first one in kitchen to start the day like usual, I found myself sighing with relief once I got into the familiar work again after the requisite “let’s see what I have to work with” anxiety.
The kitchen still stood. My team carried on well enough and even set me up a bit so I could slide back in to the groove. You really can’t beat a well-trained reliable assistant when you want to take time off. I came back to the same kind of work, the same personalities and difficulties, and the same serene focus I had taken a break from as much as anything. “Serene focus” sounds better than “conscious detachment” when I talk to my therapist. Positive framing and all.
The Black Hat Baker 