“Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”
That was a life mantra passed down to me by my father and
was likely passed down to him by his father.
About ten years ago, you could have heard my head spinning
when a pastor colleague offered me this polar opposite:
“Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.”
Really? Could this be true? As a perfectionist I had my
doubts. Yet, what freedom, what grace!
2018 has arrived and I’ve not always been one for
resolutions. To me, they carry the
burden of that first mantra. To make a resolution means striving for
perfection. You might fail. No, you will fail. I will fail. I won’t eat perfectly, exercise
perfectly, journal perfectly, or any other endeavor we believe is worth our
effort.
This new year, though, I have been reflecting on two things: an
article that I read about failure and my recently discovered Netflix obsession: watching the Great British Baking
Show with my kids. More and more, these remind me of the truth of those head spinning
words, "Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly."
I am a Baker, at least by name. And I actually really like
baking. I’ve whipped up some fancy desserts on occasion. I prefer to make my
kid’s birthday cakes from scratch.
Challah has been a moderate success. But the truth is I rarely try
something new or challenging. I’ve yet to attempt a cheesecake. Or a key lime
pie. And I rarely bake unless I have something pressing like a party or
holiday. I rarely just bake for the pleasure of it.
So I’ve resolved in 2018 that the kitchen will be my lab for
failure, all for the sake of actually having a hobby. I’ve been jealous of
folks that seem to find time for all kinds of hobbies. Even before I started
working full-time and was juggling numerous part-time jobs with being a mom, I
would never know what to say when asked for my hobbies. Doing my morning Sudoku
puzzle while savoring a cup of tea, taking walks, perhaps reading a book— that’s been the extent of it.
My first bake of 2018 was a simple cinnamon raisin bread. It
had a slight crack on the top and when I went to put a piece into the toaster, the
spiral part with the raisins un-spiraled. I wouldn’t have won “star baker.” But
it tasted good and my picky-eater kids liked it. Even more, I enjoyed the
process. It was a very pleasant way to usher in
I don’t plan on being one of those fancy food bloggers who
write a dissertation intermingled with a recipe and a photo album. But I’m hoping that the process of baking will
help me live into “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.” I hope it will give
me permission to “Lean In” as author Sheryl Sandberg encourages. Perhaps the
resolution is in the trying, knowing that it’s in the cracks and breaks that
the light shines through.
