What can one say about love that hasn’t been said yet. Hasn’t been sang yet. Hasn’t been written about yet. Hasn’t been acted on yet? Love. Love is all and all is love.
I find love in an old picture. In a song. In a smile. In a hug. In food. In a tabouleh plate.
I cook with love. I talk about it. I teach about it. I preach about it. And yet lately, I feel at a loss with love. It has been an incredible year in lessons of heartache, patience and love. And I know I am not the only one to feel like this. It has been a trying year. Mom used to always say, “toughen yourself and you’ll be tough” “be stoic” I believed in that mantra. However lately, I find myself talking to mom’s spirit, and telling her, I really do not want to be tough or stoic or resilient. I want to crawl under the covers and sleep hoping it’s all been a dream or more of a nightmare.
I love to write, but I’m not a writer. I’m a free spirit, passionate and full of joie de vivre and don’t typically follow a recipe, a script or society’s dictation on how to be. What matters to me is to follow in the footsteps of my parents and be a decent human being. Not perfect. Never perfect but live with the rules of goodness and integrity. The rest of the rules, I make them up the way I see fit.
So let’s go back to cooking with love. My recipes are not perfect. I am an emotional cook. I love to cook with abandon and I don’t like to cook with a ruler. Unless I’m making a cake. When it comes to simple dishes, I follow in mom’s steps and say a bit of this and a bit of that, as long as you add a sprinkle of love!
On my website, you’ll find me blogging about my passions. My kids, grandkid, plants, painting, crochet, knitting, writing. I have too many projects or loves on the go… I would love to say singing but I’ve tried and singing is definitely not my forte. However, belly dancing is. I love it. Love swaying to the sounds of music while cooking or cleaning.
Let’s share that love. Yalla, tell me what’s your love.