New week, new start. My son went back to school today, and I, for one, am jumping with joy! After what seems like ages, I managed to sit down and write uninterrupted for 3 hours. Saw a scene I totally hadn't planned come together, and my heroine hijacked her characterization. I'm gonna have to adapt to the new direction she took this morning.
But back to this post's topic - Letting go. I am a completely anal compulsive perfectionist. Everything I do has to be, well, perfect... Lol, I am definitely not perfect, so maybe I compensate for that in all I endeavour to do.
We all know here that I am also not a domestic goddess. My one attempt to make bread resulted in a 'rock' that could break concrete. But thank goodness, other things I cook turn out okay. Mind though - I really don't like to cook, or eat, for that matter. I have a strange love-hate relationship with food, probably thanks to my past as an overweight gal.
In waltzes my 8-year-old son. He's a foodie if I ever saw one - loves to eat and loves to prepare food. He watches all those cooking TV shows - Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver, Sanjeev Kapoor, Chak Le India and Highway on my Plate. He even knows cooking techniques that I've never heard of!
But for God's sake, he's 8! I don't want a kid let loose in my kitchen, where there are bubbling pans, burning stoves, and very sharp knives. So what do I do when he approaches the very safe zone of the kitchen island when I'm preparing food?
This is what happened on Saturday, when I was making spring rolls for dinner. Filling was cooked and cooled, all the instruments I needed were laid out, and the only thing left to do was actually roll up the rolls. It looks like a tricky technique but is in fact quite easy... Guess you know where this is going - a little boy asked me if he could help...
My first instinct was to say No. But then I caught myself - he'd been home for 3 weeks and though we did do stuff together, we didn't do as much stuff as I believed a 'perfect' mum did.
We spent the following hour rolling spring rolls side by side. I showed him how, and his little hands were surprisingly deft and quick. Though there have been some mishaps along the way, in the end, you couldn't figure out which ones I'd rolled and which ones he'd done.
And that's when I realized that it's okay - important even - to let go sometimes. In an unexpected moment, my son and I bonded like we never have before, and I'm sure the first time we rolled spring rolls together will remain a treasured memory we'll carry for as long as we live. It was all about the moment, and in the end, it's the little moments that count; it's the little moments that assemble to create tapestries of memories and happiness.
I should learn to let go more, to trust that everything is not dependent on me to turn out all right. This is what my son taught me this weekend, and what I wanted to share with you all.
From Mauritius with love,
Zee
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