Writing this post is some of the best therapy I get. Honestly. Sitting with a therapist is all about uncovering motivations, rethinking, exploring. It’s exhausting.
But when I get to think a little bit about what sourdough means to me, and share something about that, it fills me with a sense of calm—and makes me feel better about life in the process.
And goodness, I really should stop following the news. There was a lot of it, mostly bad. Some of the reactions to the bad news were even worse. One week was particularly bleak, but then something fascinating happened.
I was just starting a meeting with someone I don’t usually overlap with at work, and I had to take some sourdough out of my oven. To your question: yes, my work is okay with me baking while I work from home—at least, I think so. Anyway, my co-worker got so excited because she’s a sourdough baker too.
Luckily for me, most of my loaves came out pretty well. And I made a lot of them, since I was getting ready for the Jewish holidays.
Reflecting on the conversation that followed, I realized how much I felt I shared with this person simply because we enjoy the same hobby. How much more interesting would the world be if we dropped our political cards and took up our hobby cards? Instead of asking people we meet what they do, what if we asked, what do you do for fun? Wouldn’t that give us a much better sense of the person than what they do professionally?
There’s a line from The Little Prince that I just love:
…I have had, in the course of my life, lots of encounters with lots of serious people. I have spent lots of time with grown-ups. I have seen them at close range… which hasn’t much improved my opinion of them.
So try this: if you meet a new person with smiling eyes, rather than ask what they do, ask what they do for fun. Perhaps you’ll add a new friend to your list.