Thursday, April 25, 2013

What "Stuff You Should Know" inadvertently taught me.

The next time I talk about starting to follow a new podcast, please provide me with a cautionary word.

"Hey, Emily, you know when you decide to engage with something, you have a penchant for immersing yourself in it and not looking back until it's done. Are you prepared for that at this particular juncture? You might want to reconsider."

Or if you don't want to use quite so many words, four will suffice. Simply say, "Stuff You Should Know."

A few months ago, I once again became not only a computer owner, but also Windows user. Before then, I ran Linux Mint, and while I did learn much and knew I was capable of learning more, I never did carve out enough time to successfully navigate the learning curve. Many neglected parts of my relationship with technology stayed neglected as a result. But as soon as the sparkly new Windows 8 was downloaded, I was overjoyed at the impending reality of reconnecting to one certain cherished aspect of that relationship: podcasts.

Being the daughter of my father meant that I grew up listening to NPR. Couple that with my preference for audio over visual, and it becomes clear why podcasts became such an integral part of my life as soon as I discovered them 7 years ago. It felt like one of the greatest discoveries of my life, and helped seal my unending fondness for the Internet.

I put out a call on Facebook for suggestions of what podcasts to subscribe to. I'm aware of quite a few, and could quite easily listen to only those and be satisfied, but as I felt like this technological reunion symbolized a new start to my life (Yes, everyone, that is honestly how affectionate I am toward the Internet - so much that engaging with it again felt like a renewal in the manner of repairing a relationship with an estranged loved one. No one is more amused/appalled by this than me.), it seemed appropriate to find something new for my ears to hear. Among the suggestions I received was one "Stuff You Should Know." I trusted the judgment of the suggester, and was drawn by the title promising two of my favorite things, facts and knowledge, most importantly a variety of each. I scoped it out on iTunes, then clicked "subscribe" after a few moments of perusing.

A couple months (maybe 3?) pass and here we arrive to today, the day I finished every episode of "Stuff You Should Know." They've published something near 500 episodes. Much of my life has been on hold trying to make it through all of them. My spare moments have been devoid of music. Replacing that has been the dulcet tones of Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant. Bedtime reading has been all but forgotten. I pulled out a book to start reading, and it sat on my bed for weeks waiting to be opened. Since opening, it has been even more weeks and I've barely made it through enough to say I began. When not occupied by obligations, all my attention has been given to this catch-all informational bi-weekly modern radio show. I obviously felt like it was worth pursuing, or I would not have stayed the course, but by the end I was ready to exclaim, "Enough is enough!"

When the last episode ended this morning, I felt like a whole world of time was placed into my hands. I'm still breathing relief in deeply.

I do this with everything. I should know better. Maybe now I do.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Hot Space #11.

A pressure cooker. You know the ones, with a latched handle, and bobber that bounces on the top of the pot spewing steam. That's what this season (for lack of a better word) feels like. Nothing penetrates, hardly anything escapes.

But Grandma just came by and tweaked the regulator. SSSHHHHHHHHHH was the sound of making cookies. SSSSSSHHHHHHH was the sound of writing notes to dear ones far away. SSSSSSHHHHHHH was the sound of working with my hands. Release was the sound of creating.

Welcome sounds they are.

But now it's time to reseal the gaps. Just a little while longer, I think. I remind myself the pressure is meant to bring good things. Like Grandma's roast.

At the top of the list of good things this will bring me is sincere, profound gratitude for moments without pressure.


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Life smells like fresh bread.

I'm going to let you in on a secret. If you read this secret, congratulations! You're in the loop. All those other people out there have the opportunity to read and know, but they're not reading this, are they?

After pulling out of the job search for a while, I've begun again to think about jobs and business. My thoughts on this matter have changed much since my post-graduation disappointment. I no longer feel a desperation to do the first, easiest thing to come in front of my face. My willingness to do anything has not diminished, but the fear that I have to do anything (as in anything that may not be worth my effort and sanity) is gone. Or mostly gone. I'm in the frame of mind and spirit to pursue something less accessible, something that may not even make sense. Something that has the potential to be more worthwhile than working in a nameless cubicle or hanging drywall. (I've done the latter. I'm willing to do it for myself, or to help out a friend, but as soon as it became a job, I couldn't recall a time I'd been more miserable.)

My retirement from running after a job has also allowed me to experience life in its most basic elements. Fulfilling relationships, serving everyone, loving everyone, unwavering gratitude: these are things which make life a joy, and contribute to well-being of both mind and body. I've been focusing particularly on the latter in recent months, and let me tell you, feeling alive is so much better than eating cheeseburgers.

These things have combined in my head and heart, and what I find emerging are ideas for running a food-manufacturing business from my home. I've always liked to make food, but as I had little interest in eating it, and felt no other passion for it outside of the creation process, I didn't think much about wanting to employ myself in by the process of making it. But my mindset started changing as my diet started changing. I feel great, my mother is on the road to feeling well for the first time in many years, and in light of wellness, a new passion for making food has been aroused in me. I think I can help others with what I have learned.

A few weeks ago, I researched the laws Tennessee has set in place governing this kind of venture, and I gratefully found it is possible, and the provisions are more generous than I expected. Since then, my mind has been swirling with possibilities. It's been hard to know where to begin. I think my mind has settled, however, on specializing in bread. Bread is one of the most integral parts of our diets, so easy to get wrong, and it's these things combined that can make it so devastating to good health. People don't need to be deprived of bread, they just need to eat the right kind.

For me, the name of the game is still research. I'm nowhere near ready to start passing out loaves to my friends and neighbors. Thus as confident as I feel in this direction, every bit of this is still tentative. My other tentative plan is to at least begin taking requests for anything it's legal for me to make and sell at home to fill in gaps between bread sales, but in the interest of fruitfulness and longevity, I think it's important to specialize. This is particularly so in cases where I might sell product after it's made, like setting up at the farmer's market and selling pre-prepared things on the spot. People can't buy something at booth if it hasn't been made yet.

I have lots of other ideas (like wanting my business name and the name of each recipe I make to have something to do with literature and/or music), but I want to focus in on just having organized what it will take to get started, and get started well. I have a feeling many of ideas will stay in my head for a while, until their time to emerge. Or perhaps they'll stay forever. I have no idea how long I will do this, or how large it will grow. I don't see myself baking and only baking for the rest of  my life, but my future vision isn't great. I don't know what will happen with this. I still hold a desire to write. And sing. Perhaps I'll do all three.

That's my secret. If you have any comments, suggestions, words of counsel, I welcome them. There is still a long list of things to work out, and as I'm intending to create something for people, I need to know what the people think. Would you buy homemade bread? What kind of bread do you think you might buy? Would you buy something else? Have any charming ideas for names? Any words of experience to impart?

And if you're the kind inclined to pray, I would be ever so grateful for your kindness in talking to the Lord about me.