Living Simply Isn’t

My friend Victoria lives a life a lot of folks claim to dream of, myself included.

She lives in a house next to a state park, warmed by a wood-fired stove. She, her husband and toddler keep a garden and raise ducks and turkeys, the structures of which she and her husband built themselves. When she isn’t baking or cooking what her husband hunts and fishes, she and her business partner go hiking and foraging for the ingredients they use to make their botanical lotions and cosmetics as Wily Coyote Botanicals.

She is still a wife and mother, still maintains a household, and somehow has all the energy needed to maintain all these things AND co-run a business.

“Simplifying your life” takes a lot of work, learning, and relearning. Victoria has been fascinated and working at it for most of her life, but what can a tragically urban writer/baker with “#bighobbitenergy” do?

I caught up with her to ask a couple questions about the “simple life” and for most of us, it will start small- with hobbies and curiosity.

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Wearing the White Belt

Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience with the delays in blog posts as of late. I signed on with my new job just at the start of the busy season and it’s been more than a little exhausting the last few weeks trying to cover all my bases AND get up to speed.

It’s a new job, learning new recipes with new challenges and trying to contribute as much as I can. No time to indulge in “FNG Status” here- I need to lean into what I know to learn and improve on what I don’t.

It’s probably that newness- the “breath of fresh air” that feels more like a storm gale pounding you in the face that made something finally click for me last week about a change I need to make in my personal life.

CW for talk about weight loss, obesity, and diet.

Working out the kinks in recipes is part of my new job. Canele has been one of them- I have plenty of practice.
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Finding the Moments

Has it ever occurred to you that there is a opposite version of triggers?

By “triggers” I mean the actual psychological definition of the word, by the way. It’s not a synonym for “offended” or “thing that makes me angry.” Triggers in psychology are the things that cause negative reactions and flashbacks in people who have experienced trauma– not unlike why veterans with PTSD might get uneasy at the sound of gunshots or fireworks. If you insist on using the word with a sneer at people whose politics you don’t like or as a joke, you might want to consider the life-altering magic of growing up and having empathy.

Little things that pop up unexpectedly that cause feelings of safety, warmth, and joy on the other hand are apparently called “glimmers”- and I’ve been doing my best to recognize them in my life. The last few days have been full of them, and I wanna tell you about it.

Spruce tips! A little too small for harvesting yet, but soon…
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If You Want To Speed Up, Slow Down

I like to think I’m not a slouch in the bakeshop. That is, after nearly a decade, I should certainly hope I’m not. Between confidence in my skills, good time management, preparation, and prioritization I’m considerably faster at various tasks than the people I train.

All those things come with experience, but the one thing that I’ve had to learn and am still learning is that I can go faster if I slow down first.

Cozy Mode Activated (with help from Miss Cleo)
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My Quiet And Crusty Ministry

Thanksgiving in an American pie shop can best be described as the World Cup and the Super Bowl rolled up together- then stretched out over 21 days. Christmas, remarkably, tends to be less busy, but only slightly. I had to let my writing work slide for a couple weeks there because all my energy was being spent in the shop- physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The experience is always a trying one- I’m not complaining about that. My team and I handled it well, pulling off over 2000 pies in about a week. What it can mean, however, is exhaustion leading to strained nerves and losing sight of why the work we do is important. Not just to the world at large, but to ourselves personally.

You can’t blame a guy for not seeing the glory in the 500th pumpkin pie he’s made in a week, after all.

It’s almost providential then that, just before Thanksgiving, I rediscovered an important insight: “I chose this. I chose baking. I chose love. This is my calling.” Not many of us can say we work at our calling… but how many can also say their day job is their spiritual practice?

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