On My Mind Monday

Muffins. I've had muffins on my mind. Last week it was blueberry and this week it's these oatmeal/banana/walnut numbers inspired by Ree's mom's recipe and a single overripe banana. The kids don't love them. Ted only ate one after school yesterday when they were hot out of the oven before switching to left over choriqueso. Both kids left a lonely half on their breakfast plates this morning. I'm pretty sure they'd be a bigger hit if I put chocolate chips in them.

But I digress. Muffins aren't really weighing on my mind. Making them is what keeps me from going to the darkest places. The catacombs of self-doubt, worry and fear. I've been dragged down a lot lately by the uncertainty in my future and the paralysis I feel when I think about putting myself out there. It's white knuckle terror that comes over me, but a nagging sadness too.

Yesterday as I chopped and stirred, I thought about how these muffins, which I'll call Morning Glory Muffins, would be just what I'd serve to the guests at my bed and breakfast on a crisp fall morning. I used to dream of owning a b&b, or a bakery or a bookstore. I planned to write books: children's, cookbooks, and fiction for starters. I had so many stories swirling around my head, I was certain I could write forever. I thought that I had forever. I'm sad because I could have done any of these things. I'm not saying that they're impossible now, but I can't wrap my head around how. And I'm sad because I feel like I've wasted so much precious time. I don't regret for a single minute putting my family first for the last couple decades, but I do regret putting my dreams on hold. I think they could have coexisted and coexisted beautifully.

This tendency I have to rue and lament just makes me angry. It's a bit of a vicious and debilitating cycle: fear, regret then anger. It frustrates me because I know the importance of living in the moment. I know that the past is behind me, but I can't help myself to look back longingly. I want so badly to train my eyes on the future, but I'm scared. All of this doesn't leave me very present in the present, which is where I want to be.

But I'm working on it and it starts by naming it, owning it and facing it. It's good to come here and write rawly. Writing helps me work things out just like baking. Making this blog private was the first step towards opening my heart. I have loved this space and the times and places it's captured, but I need to feel safe and secure as I move through to forward.