This place, of feeling like things will never get easier, of imagining your future and trying to live it all now, in one moment as the you are now, inexperienced, weak winged, cocooned, I sit on this stump of frustration often. Self-defeat and hopelessness stretch in every direction. The only way out is up, one step at a time, through every ache and pain.
I have not met the person I will be ten minutes from now, and I never will meet her, but I can help to build her. With every step she becomes easier to carry, every word clumsily practiced she becomes more eloquent, with every vulnerability risked she becomes more saturated with love. Like a tree grows to sunlight, she will grow in the direction of all the challenges that will come in ten minutes.
The first thing I ever cooked was scrambled eggs with lemon pepper. I will never forget the woman who lifted my tiny frame onto that chair and handed me a fork and an egg and some simple instructions. She held onto me so I would not fall as I clunked my fork around the bowl, eager to show her that I could be a big girl. Shaking the lemon pepper into the eggs was my favorite part, the reward for a job well done. I used a much larger fork this morning to mix the Greek yogurt into the diced vegetables. It was the kind of fork designed not for eating, but to go on a serving platter, proportionally over sized for my body. As I cut into the red onions, I remembered what it was like to stand before boxes of onions and potatoes when I worked as a prep cook on Saturdays. I was clumsy and inexperienced but eager to impress the chef with my speed. I reflect on these moments as I clear the remaining chopped veggies into the salad bowl.
Dice 1 green pepper, 2 large cucumbers (peeled), 10 radishes and 1/2 head of fennel. Add ~1 cup Greek yogurt and 4 baby red onions diced small. Squeeze in a little lemon juice, a sprinkle of salt and pepper and top liberally with lemon pepper.
Christina's vote: "This salad made me feel like I was being carried along by dolphins"