A pinch of this and a dash of that.  

Baking with my mother drove me crazy because she never used formal means of measurement, which meant I couldn’t learn how to exactly replicate her tasty pieces of perfection.

She would say phrases like, “Just eye it up,” or repeat herself in frustration, “I said a heap; just add a heap.”

“What in the hell is a heap and how do I know if a splash or a pinch is too much?”

Through a child’s eyes, it appeared as if her gifts were divinely given. However, they were much more than that. They were an arsenal of collected experiences that were born from failure and resilience.

Taste, adjust, try again. Until one day, you will have the results you had been hoping for.

The craft she honed in her kitchen became a language of its own and could be used to communicate powerful messages such as love and healing. All she had to do was use the right ingredients for the right occasion and bake them with the faith that she knew what the moment called for.

These experiences have become the metaphor upon which I have hung my hat of life.

Every interaction, relationship, and approach requires me to carefully experiment with a bit of this and a heap of that to meet the needs of others. Whether I am working with students who are dealing with trauma or parenting my own very different children.

We like to think we can calculate, measure, and specify what we or others need or want, but the truth is that it is all wrapped up in a lifetime of trial and error.

It’s knowing when someone requires silence but presence. It is resisting the temptation to save someone so they can trust they can save themselves. It is setting aside judgment to gain perspective and practice empathy. It is intentionally withholding while impactfully giving.

Whether it is with the warm smells of chocolate in your kitchen or the tenderness of a much-needed hug for someone in need, the devotion of your efforts is to feed and serve others with love. Feed them hope. Feed them grace. Feed them security. Feed them a nostalgic morsel that brings them to a memory of peace.

In the rolling, mixing, and beating of life, learn when to knead out difficulty and when to gingerly take care. You may not always get the recipe just right, but remember, given the right ingredients, you can always try again.