I few nights ago I was attempting to cook myself dinner. Unfortunately I am not very good at following directions like at all. I was also attempting to make asparagus. I should add that I never use a recipe to cook because…well that is a question for which I have no good answer whatsoever.
However there is a rice a roni recipe on the back of the box that I somehow managed to mess up. Like completely mess up. My rice a roni was burning and squishy.
Then I checked my asparagus to find that it looked like twigs. Wooden twigs. It was completely burnt.
The funny thing is that while I was doing all of this “cooking” I was also busily writing. I love writing. It is something that I am good at and I enjoy. It is one of my talents.
Cooking is not my talent. Not right now at least. That could be in part due to my distraction but even on my best days I tend to screw things up.
I have a friend on the other hand who is a wonderful cook. She also loves to cook. I don’t. Cooking is one of those supposively feminine things. Something that in ages past, all women needed to be good cooks. That is not the case now. Not entirely.
As I thought about that I was grateful. Grateful that I live in a day and age when we can pursue our own gifts and talents. I was grateful for my gift of writing and my inability to cook. Those are both parts of me. Things about me.
One of the greatest gifts of our modern day is our ability to allocate resources in a different manner. We all have different gifts and talents and that is good thing.
We also don’t all have to be good at everything. That is a lie, one that somehow is part of our culture. A lie that we need to be perfect. To be successful at everything we do. That’s not true because none of us can be good at everything. We all have gifts and talents but being good at everything is simply unrealistic.
That is why I am glad that I have the talent of writing, even if all my food burns while I write….