fresh start

sourdough flakes (1 of 1)

twentysixteen turned my world upside down. after packing up for more than six months and finally crossing the ocean in late summer we set out to conquer a new world. however, late in that year this happy endeavor came to a grinding halt. enthusiasm evaporated, energy waned. i had underestimated the power of change in mid life, and the challenge of blending two families’ practices and routines into one seemed almost to huge a task to be tackled, never mind all the good intentions that came along with it. nerves blank, emotions felt raw, edges were sharp, hurtful almost was the realization how hard it is to leave a whole life behind and to start all over again.

what to do when the dynamic of change seems overwhelming? how to curb enthusiasm and impatience in tow when all there is to do is to sit back and let things go their way? i had visited many times to feel out what life would look like over here. in fact, i had jumped into a chushioned couch, guided by a loving hand, rather than taking a leap from a cliff into the unknown. Yet, it felt like I kept on falling, never reaching the ground.

a fresh start never comes easy. like a starter built from scratch it needs time to develop drive and power. patience is key to a steady rise and and a strong structure. i learned from baking what it takes to reground myself. i understand the frailty of the process, and if not always ready to commit to it, at least i am able to accept it. there is distinct comfort in the weekly routine of preparing the leaven, selecting the types of flower to build the loaf, filling the house with the warm scent of freshly baked bread. crisp crust and airy crumb, holding hands, happily combining the old and the new in life.

sourdough rye bread (1 of 1)

twentyseventeen is well under way. mid february now, days are longer, routines are stronger. there is less struggle, familiarity and comfort prevail over feelings of loss. a fresh start calls for a symbol of change. despite my insecurities, i will give it a try. the tone might be slightly different, english is after all not my native tongue. like the leaven, that i take out of its rest every friday morning, i will dilligently go about my ever evolving task.

and, given enough time i will be just the same.


Comments are closed.