Speaking Out ... for Myself.

Speaking Out ... for Myself.

n the midst of a pandemic, particular one where we have been fortunate to weather rather well, it seems trifling to think about needing space and breaks. I mean after all my life is incomparably easy relative to healthcare workers and those in essential jobs. And yet, I feel a fatigue and severe ennui. I struggle with feeling grateful for what I have and yet being empathetic to my own needs…

Yet, at the same time, I can see that isn’t helpful or enabling. It is necessary to let in my vulnerable self and reach out for support. Because, if I do not, not only does it inhibit me from finding balance and joy within me, it also blinds me from the extending empathy and balance to those around me.

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Remembering Whence I Came and Egg Puffs

Remembering Whence I Came and Egg Puffs

Somehow, since moving here and the puff pastry becoming ubiquitous, I had forgotten my own humble origins. How a bite of a simple pastry could make my life feel rich and sumptuous. Because in the 10 minutes that I took to eat the egg puff (for at least an hour after), I forgot about how I was the awkward one in class, that my skin was too brown for a fairness obsessed culture, that I had no pretty clothes (OMG! that horrendous high waisted jeans I had! :O), that I was the weird kid in class who wore so big an A-line skirt that it looked like a ball gown because my mother chose the cheap tailor. No, for those minutes, I felt equal to the nobility who probably were the only ones who could have afforded such a pastry, only 50 years prior!

But Instagram brought it up! That community of food obsessed and passionate rekindled me. It all started with Giulia’s post on the Puglian rustici…!

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