“One of the secrets, and pleasures, of cooking is to learn to correct something if it goes awry; and one of the lessons is to grin and bear it if it cannot be fixed.”
Some days, I wish life would be as easy as one, two, three. It’d be nice if life was as easy as following a recipe, but because we’re all different, it would need to leave some room for a twist, to make it personal, and add our very own flavor. It should be delicious. Life is sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, and (at worst) bitter, but then easily fixed with some spices and tasty tricks. It’s something that needs to be made by us with all the things that we are. It can’t be a take-away or a ready meal because you still have to make the adjustments for yourself – a little bit more of this and a tiny bit less of that.
I wish life was as easy as pie. If it really was, I think my very own recipe for happiness on my bad days would be something poetic like this:
The Recipe For Happiness
If happiness was a cake
I’d simply start to bake
To give my life a sweet taste to enjoy
And fill my mouth with a ton of joy.
Yet, it happens too many times a day
That I let unhappiness walk my way
And feeling comfy in the midst of my blue mood
It decides to stay and I decide to brood.
And for too many days and too many nights
I just cry while it sneakily turns on all the lights
And casts a shadow upon my heart so dark
That sometimes I almost forget about the spark.
But then I remember what it takes
To get rid of all these painful aches.
I get up and stumble with one foot in front of the other
My inner dreamer finally finds a temporary shelter.
And so I put on a nice apron and get going.
Indeed, I would start something out of nothing.
I take a bowl and I take a spoon
And of course, I put on a good tune.
All the ingredients are somewhere within
What’s worth cherishing and what’s worth the bin
It just takes a good scale to find the right balance
And only keep under the light all your talents.
I peel my problems away
And place them on a tray.
Then I chop my worries in pieces
And color sprinkles my bruises.
I stir and stir and wait ’til it stops being so heavy
And when it all lightens up and my mix is ready
I let it cook up and melt all my troubles
While happiness burst like golden bubbles.
I grab a bite and say a little thank you.
Indulging in gratitude for not being so blue
And for having within me the little tricks
That somehow showed me the way to mix and fix.
Nothing can be too bad or too dark
If you do it right from your heart.
It can be easy as pie
If you just give it a try.
Your ingredients are all waiting and ready
You just need to make your own recipe.
Happiness is a cake
So simply start to bake.
This article was first published on Lifehack.