To Be a Dreamer

Earlier this week (oh God it’s only Tuesday), I participated in an interview that, in my opinion, wasn’t going very well.  Towards the end of the discussion, one of my colleagues broke up the monotony of the standard questions by asking the candidate what he would do if he could do anything on a day off.  

I loved this question.  

But I quickly balked, silently of course, as the person started to paint the picture of a perfect day.  I didn’t want to have the time (let’s be honest, I didn’t have the time) to listen to the story.  I actually feel embarrassed for myself by writing that out.  I certainly wasn’t honoring him.  It wasn’t fair.  

I’ll also admit that I started to take to his words.  There were a lot of feelings simply shared that gave me an appreciation for the story he was telling. I found myself smiling as he took us on a timeless journey that ultimately would end with a bit of sadness as the day came to a close.

I was surprised to hear him alter the question back to his panel of judges: “What do you like to do in your spare time” (I think that’s how it was worded).  

We all fell silent as if we were mentally drawing straws.  It’s an interesting game of virtual collaboration when the ball is passed.  No one seemed to reach for it.  I mean, I definitely did not.

When it was my turn, I gave a short answer - one everyone on the call knew - “I run”.  Embarrassed I was, again for giving, in my opinion, a bullshit answer.  I then quickly leaned forward again, towards my camera, as if I was in the room with all these people.  My mind put my elbows on the table.  It’s as if I interjected my own response with a blurted “I like to cook.” 

Jesus, Christina.

I went on babbling something about cooking being my love language of sorts.  I mean, I really enjoy preparing food - whether it’s for myself or others.  When I’m mindful about it, I pour my soul into everything I orchestrate.  I also might have shared, when asked, that my favorite dishes to prepare were anything from my Grandmother (which definitely doesn’t even compare.  I’m not even working with a recipe for the love of God) and Asian inspired dishes.

I’m thankful for that conversation.  It reminded me of love.  It reminded me to move slowly.  It reminded me to be delicate.  It reminded me to gently infuse my soul into whatever I may prepare, present, provide.

I dedicate tonight’s offering to those in search of something.