See your world as a sort of well-stocked kitchen where every possible ingredient that has ever been pondered, considered, thought of, or wanted exists in an abundant, never ending quantity, and see yourself as a chef, soliciting forth from the selves of your kitchen whatever ingredients, in whatever quantity, you desire and you are mixing it all together for the creation of your cake, which currently pleases you.
Boom! I adore this, as an avid cook (hello I dream in VW food buses) this I just GET. This is your recipe. You’re wearing the apron. You’ve go the temperature set. You can set it as high as you want. Blazing with passion, frying up dreams, or warming with serenity. You have all the ingredients, all the tools to make it happen. You have all the tools in life too. You are surrounded in potential. You are surrounded by possibility. All you have to do is start mixing, get your butt to baking.
A teaspoon of creativity here. A cup of love there. A pinch of humor there. Pints of joy. An ounce of service. A dash of high vibrations to top it off. Garish it with belief. You add the amount. You select the ingredients, because you could swap anger for joy and instantly change the recipe. But who would want to do that?
Sometimes the conceptual dish you plan doesn’t turn out how you anticipated. Sometimes you’re not patient enough in preparation or you rush the baking. Sometimes it doesn’t rise. Sometimes it falls. Sometimes in life your anticipations don’t pan out how you envision. What do you do? Either you dig deep and get creative on how to spin this outcome, you make something better, or you start over. You scratch the original recipe and take a new approach. You try again. Sometimes you try it with different ingredients and flavors.
You keep baking, though. You stay in the kitchen. Their are no mistakes, only opportunities. I’ve had dishes bomb, they just weren’t what I was hoping for. But I keep faith. I change the end result and often it works out better than I could have imagined. I have made complete disasters. I baked them too long. I didn’t put enough of a certain ingredient, or I put too much. Or the dish just tasted awful, the texture was off, the color was unappealing. Rather than dwell on the ‘failure,’ I let it be a lesson. I grow. I move on. I reflect. I try again and again. I make the recipe better and better each time over time. What do you want to bake? You can make anything you want. So what will it be? What will you create? What’s your top-secret recipe?