Personal philosophy

Perfect Biscuits; or, how to follow directions

/ Sheila / 5 Comments

Southern Living Buttermilk Biscuits

I grew up in the South. I had grandmothers who cooked; a mom, aunts, cousins, a mother-in-law who are all stars in the kitchen. And I don’t do too badly myself, in some areas. But I’ve always been defeated by biscuits. I know, they’re such a Southern staple…tragic that I couldn’t produce a successful version of that breakfast icon.

Over the years I’ve collected a variety of recipes, each promising to be the best, the fluffiest, the epitome of biscuitness. And every time I’ve tried a new recipe, I’ve had another disappointment.

Last weekend I was doing a little internet surfing and stumbled across a classic Southern Living recipe for buttermilk biscuits. The photos looked so amazing, I decided to give it one more try. And I produced perfection! I’ve probably even made this recipe, or something very similar, before. So what was the variable this time? Well, for the first time ever, I baked the biscuits at the temperature the recipe specified! I know right now you’re thinking, why would you not bake at the temperature the recipe gives?

I like lightly browned breads, nothing too crisp or crusty. So I’ve always baked at a lower temperature, thinking that would keep my biscuits from browning too much. But when I actually baked them at 450 degrees, they puffed up to an amazing height. To my surprise, they were lightly browned on the exterior and were the perfect pillowy texture on the inside.

There are times that it is good to think outside the box. There are times when it is good to make your own rules, to do what works for you. But there are also times when following the rules pays off. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel for some things. Biscuit recipes work as they’re written. Math works according to known formulas. Sometimes the best course is to see what has worked for others and to copy what has been successful. That doesn’t mean you don’t have creativity or ability to be original. It may mean that you are smart enough and humble enough to recognize that others may know a thing or two. That you may not always have the best answer, the best idea.

The trick is to know what strategy to use for the given situation. From now on, if I’m making biscuits, I’m going to trust the recipe and “bake as directed.” How many times I’ve read that instruction, and how frequently I have not baked as directed! And what else have I mis-managed because I didn’t follow the directions? On the other hand, there are situations in life that demand that I listen to my heart, that I follow my instincts.

Maybe that’s the challenge for each of us…when to conform and when to stand up and follow our on path. I don’t have all the answers. A lot of the big questions of life are complex, and there may not even be one “right” answer for some things. But I’ve learned that’s not the case for baking biscuits. It’s good to follow the recipe. It’s good to follow directions.

Perfect Southern Living Biscuits

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup cold butter
  • 2 1/4 cups self-rising soft-wheat flour
  • 1 1/4 cups buttermilk
  • Self-rising soft-wheat flour
  • 2 tablespoons melted butter

Preparation

  • 1. Cut butter with a sharp knife or pastry blender into 1/4-inch-thick slices. Sprinkle butter slices over flour in a large bowl. Toss butter with flour. Cut butter into flour with a pastry blender until crumbly and mixture resembles small peas. Cover and chill 10 minutes. Add buttermilk, stirring just until dry ingredients are moistened.
  • 2. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface; knead 3 or 4 times, gradually adding additional flour as needed. With floured hands, press or pat dough into a 3/4-inch-thick rectangle (about 9 x 5 inches). Sprinkle top of dough with additional flour. Fold dough over onto itself in 3 sections, starting with 1 short end. (Fold dough rectangle as if folding a letter-size piece of paper.) Repeat entire process 2 more times, beginning with pressing into a 3/4-inch-thick dough rectangle (about 9 x 5 inches).
  • 3. Press or pat dough to 1/2-inch thickness on a lightly floured surface; cut with a 2-inch round cutter, and place, side by side, on a parchment paper-lined or lightly greased jelly-roll pan. (Dough rounds should touch.)
  • 4. Bake at 450° for 13 to 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from oven; brush with 2 Tbsp. melted butter.

Enjoy! And don’t under-bake!

Choosing, not settling

/ Sheila / 4 Comments

Life is complicated. Few things, indeed, are perfect. Certainly no relationships meet that standard. So what does it mean to accept imperfections, or even differences, in another person? And does acceptance mean that you settle?

We’re initially drawn to others for the positives: the things we have in common, the personality traits or the physical characteristics that we admire in someone. Humor. Kindness. Creativity. Attractiveness. Love of adventure. Intelligence. Emotional maturity. Energy. Ambition. In the beginning, it’s all good. There is excitement in each connection, in every conversation. There’s so much to be explored, to be revealed.

In the beginning of a relationship, there’s big talk. Life, death, history. It seems like you could talk forever.

But eventually, the everyday crowds in, and the business of life takes over. After 29 years of marriage, we don’t tell each other our history. We don’t have to; we’ve lived it together. And we long ago shared our opinions and beliefs of many of the big life questions. We’ve had some evolution over time. But still, for the most part, we know who we are as individuals, and who the other person is.

We have some differences in our views. Differences in what we deem important. We have this conversation: have we just settled? Are we in a rut of relationship? We shouldn’t be clones. My life coach says, “If two are the same, one is unnecessary.” Meaning, unless you’re into having a spare of everything, you don’t need two people who are exactly the same. The differences add the spice, the variety, make the relationship unique among relationships.

I believe that in the end, we choose the significant others in our lives as much for their faults as for their good traits. Yes, at first, we’re drawn to someone by what we have in common and by their positive qualities. But after we see the negatives peek through, there’s a different process that occurs. Whether we recognize it or not, whether it is done subconsciously or not, there is a second process of selection, and this one is based on the negatives. We begin to determine what we can live with. As in, yes, there are things about Rob that annoy me, that irritate me. There are ways we are different. And I know, because over the years, he’s given me a hint or two about this, that there are things about me that frustrate him. I am not perfect for him. He is not perfect for me.

But I have chosen, not settled. Long ago, I saw the heart of this person that drew me. We were babies then, not even out of college. I don’t know how we beat the odds to survive this long. Somehow we did. It hasn’t been easy. We’re not perfect together. But we have created a dance between the two of us. It’s a unique dance, one that only we two know the steps to. I know when he’s having a bad day and needs quiet. I see him when he’s singing to oldies with the music cranked up so I worry the neighbors will complain. He knows when I am in sync, at peace. He sees me when I’m troubled and unhappy. He bears with me.

He’s turning 50 in a few weeks. We talk about a birthday plan. Should we go somewhere? Just the two of us? What does he want? I tell him I don’t care. It’s his special day. But I will choose to be with him, wherever he is. I chose long ago, and I’m still choosing.

It’s good now and then to revisit this in my mind. To know that I choose. To know I am not settling for what’s in front of me, just because the relationship exists.

As you think about your life, your commitments, I wish you the same peace, the same assurance. I wish for you the the certainty that comes from choosing for yourself, with full knowledge of the good, the bad, and the unique. And remember, if two are the same, one is unnecessary.

Just feed one

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one.” Mother Teresa

“I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble.” Helen Keller

There are so many things I like about these quotes. They remind me that doing something good for just one person is enough. That doing something small is enough. That I don’t have to be great to be valuable. That I may never know what an act of kindness on my part may mean to another person, but it’s worth doing anyway. Practicing kindness is not about getting credit. It’s just about doing.

What are you doing today?

 

Unconditional love or approval?

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I recently read a book that was amazing. Kitchen Table Wisdom, by Rachel Naomi Remen, MD, was first published in 1996. Somehow I missed it when it came out, all those years ago, and just stumbled across it one Saturday afternoon when I was rambling in a local bookstore. I actually bought a small gift book edition, a condensed version of the full text. I found the writing moving and insightful.

I eventually discovered, when I mentioned the little book to Rob, that he had the full text edition in his books, stored in the basement. I hadn’t even realized I had read an edited version. I dug it out and read the whole thing in a few short sittings.

The book is a combination of personal reflections based on the author’s life and stories of wisdom drawn from her experience and years as a physician and counselor. There are many pearls of insight, but the one that was most meaningful to me is this:

Children can learn early that they are loved for what they do and not simply for who they are. To a perfectionistic parent, what you do never seems as good as what you might do if you just tried a little harder. The life of such children can become a constant striving to earn love. Of course love is never earned, it is a grace we give one another. Anything we need to earn is only approval.

Few perfectionists can tell the difference between love and approval. Perfectionism is so widespread in this culture that we actually have had to invent another word for love. “Unconditional love,” we say. Yet all love is unconditional. Anything else is just approval.

“Anything else is just approval.” That’s a challenging filter to pour my emotions through. Digesting this made me consider all the people in my life that I love. It can be a bit complicated to sort out all the reasons we love, and what feeds that emotion. This is not just an issue for parents and children. The principle applies to spouse, extended family, friends.

Of course the people in our lives may do things that may please us, or not. But the question is really less about what others do and more about how we respond. As a parent of young children, I always encouraged my kids to do their best. But I admit, what I often meant was “I know you can do better than that.” And the reality is that I was probably right when I had those feelings. They probably could have done better. But bottom line, the challenge was to take whatever they did and see the positive in it. Sometimes I got that, sometimes not. I believe, overall, I was able to escape being a perfectionist parent, but not because I completely understood the difference between love and approval. Maybe that was a grace that I was given, and in turn was able to extend.

It’s a fine line we walk….navigating between approval and love. Of course, I believe these two things can exist together, and should. I can choose to love, even when someone in my life is behaving in a way I don’t approve. Maybe the resolution comes when I recognize that although I may be the center of my own little universe, the people in my life are not obligated to behave in a way that I approve. No. They will make their own decisions and choices. As someone who is part of their universe, I may have an opinion about their actions. But it is my choice whether I love, or don’t love. I don’t get a choice when it comes to behavior. That’s their choice.

What about you? Are you loving the people in your life? Or just approving of them? Is there behavior that crosses the line? Spouses divorce. Rifts occur. Family members let go of others, quit speaking. I’m not saying there should be no boundaries, or that loving someone means you become a door mat. But it’s worth thinking about.  I want to be honest with myself. And I want my standard to be love, not just approval. And I hope that I’ll be given the same grace.

Intention vs behavior

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

I was watching a TV show recently and someone used the phrase “a call to excellence.”  I can’t remember what the program was about. But the phrase made me think about how striving for excellence differs from being a perfectionist. There’s an important distinction in the two concepts.

If I allow myself to be in perfectionist mode, I am never satisfied with the results of my efforts. I feel like my best is never good enough. Not that anyone else makes that judgment; I make it for myself. I am my own worst critic. But when I have the mindset of reaching for excellence, there is a subtle shift in how I see my efforts. I am able to become my own cheerleader, as though I am standing back and watching an athlete race or attempt a demanding physical feat. I see the aim for the best outcome.

Perfectionism is about critiquing results, finding fault with what was done, or not done. Striving for excellence is about encouraging the reach, the desire to be the best I can. Even the words “strive,” “reach,” “aim,” convey an implicit realization that the goal may not be achieved, the reach may exceed the grasp. But there is also an acknowledgement in those words of trying, putting my best forward.

I know I’m not perfect. But I love the challenge of excelling. Striving for excellence keeps me engaged and encouraged. When I feel the burden of perfectionism creeping into my thoughts, I feel disheartened and defeated.

Now, the next step: I can only judge for myself when I am honestly striving for excellence. Whether I achieve my goal or not, I know if I have truly given my best. But I can’t know that about anyone else. Not another living soul. I can see results from others that may look far short of excellence. But how can I know what another person can achieve at any given time, or in any given situation? This realization brings me full circle. I can only control the results of my own efforts. I can encourage and cheer others on, from my sideline position. But I can’t achieve for anyone else, and I can’t know if anyone else has reached for their own excellence. I have to trust, and then accept.

My life coach says we judge others by their behavior and ourselves by our intentions. And this sums up the challenge for how we treat others. If I can forgive myself when I don’t achieve the excellence I strive for, why can’t I do that for everyone else in my life? Here it is again: grace. This is not being blind to shortcomings, whether in myself or others. Grace allows me to love and accept myself anyway. And to love and accept others anyway.

That is enormously freeing…not that I have been burdened with angst or carrying grudges. And I have been working to free myself of perfectionism for a long time (thank you, Flylady!) But it is helps me put this into words, think it through. The process allows me to be intentional in how I view myself and how I relate to others.

I am reaching for excellence, and living with grace.

Sacred cows

/ Sheila / 4 Comments
Smock

 

So I’ve been talking a lot about cleaning out, letting go of stuff. I realized this morning that I am letting go of guilt, old plans, old views of myself. The best example of this is that last night, on my way home, I dropped off some things to my friend Val, who is an avid quilter/seamstress.  The things I gave her were a BIG box of children’s sewing patterns, fabric from all the special outfits I smocked for the kids, (I had saved leftover fabric from their outfits thinking that I would someday make a quilt out of all of it…what was I thinking??? I don’t quilt, and don’t have interest in learning!), and my smocking supplies. I had kept this stuff for 20+ years, thinking that when I had grandchildren I would use it all again. I enjoyed heriloom sewing when Stephanie and Alex were children, and I knew without doubt that I would enjoy smocking for new little ones.

For the past year I have worked on a smocking project that I started for Riley. I chose fabric, a smocking design, and I put several hours into it. But I didn’t enjoy a minute of it. My vision has changed just enough that something that was once a pleasure is now
a chore. At first I had planned to make the little dress as a gift to give Stephanie at Riley’s birth; then it became something that I was going to do as a Christmas gift…then a first birthday present. This morning I’ve decided that I am going to give that fabric to Val also. Just because I did that for my children doesn’t mean I have to do it for grandchildren. My love for Riley is not defined by smocking special things for her. Maybe I’ll be the cool grandmother who’ll teach her about camping, or cooking, or blogging, or something I haven’t even discovered for myself yet. But I won’t be smocking. That isn’t my skill any more, and I am letting go of the physical tools and the mental guilt of that change. I am celebrating that change…I feel so free, realizing that I need to look at everything I own with this same filter. I’ll keep plenty of stuff. But it will be the stuff of my life now, not from 20 years ago.  I’ve cleaned out a lot of things over the years. But I’ve kept some sacred cows, and now I realize that those aren’t really sacred….they may just be a remnant of who I used to be.  As I drove away from Val’s house, I had a smile on my face and in my heart. What a release!

Life lists

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When I was young, in my 20s, I thought I had my whole life before me. I did, of course. I find that is still true, even at the age of 50. (I must seem endlessly fixated on this number. I’m really not; it just makes a nice reference point for life evaluation.) I hope to have a healthy number of years left. And I recognize that I have immense flexibility now that I didn’t have in the past.

Some of this freedom comes from the stage I’ve reached. Kids are grown and self-supporting (Yay!); there is enough money for discretionary choices; I am able to pursue freedom without concern that a move will impact career. Work, although a good and rewarding part of my life, is just that: a part.

I’m busy, as I fill my days with relationships, employed work, de-cluttering, blogging, daily to-do list, etc., etc., etc., constructing a path for “next.” As in, “what’s next?” One of the epiphanies I had a few years ago (been working on some of this for a while!) is that it seems great to open up the map, to think you can choose to live anywhere you want. But without job or family informing the choice, it is actually overwhelming and intimidating. So with this next step, as we prepare to move from Ketchikan, there is a different strategy. Rather than look for a next place to anchor right away, I hope to explore a variety of settings, to try on some dreams before making a long-term choice.

We attempted to do this once before. We looked at some small towns in the northwest that were charming and had location appeal. But we were sidetracked with a decision before we made a selection…we allowed ourselves to be chosen, without making an intentional choice ourselves.

So, learn from past mistakes. This time, I think the filter should be less about place, more about experience. I want us to define what we are looking for now, and hope we can put location, opportunity, and resources together to explore dreams. There are a lot of beautiful places in the world, but beauty isn’t the only thing to consider. I’m looking for a package deal: possibilities for fulfillment, adventure, serendipity. And if the view is amazing, that will be a bonus. A phrase sometimes used to describe this type of search is “bucket list:” a list of things to do or see before you die. That’s the wrong motivation for me. Here’s the thing: I don’t have a bucket list. I have a life list. This isn’t about checking off things to do, it is about finding life, as it is ever-changing and evolving.

A line from one of my favorite movies of all time, The Sound of Music, expresses this thought. There’s a scene in the movie when the Reverend Mother tells Maria, “You have to live the life you were born to live.” You have to look for your life. And first, you have to know what you are looking for. Sounds easy, but unless you are one of the rare people who knew at a single-digit age what you wanted to do with your life, not as simple as it sounds. And I find that what I look for has changed over the years. I don’t need a great school system these days. I don’t need a big house. I still need love. I still want joy. But the sources are less the concrete things in my life, more the intangibles. If I seem slow to realize this, I’m not. I’ve known this for a long time. But I am reaching a point of re-creating, with intention, with purpose, with direction. I wasn’t able to do it at once, but I am able to at last.

Priorities

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I’ve been thinking a lot about comparisons and contrasts lately. I’m shifting some priorities, and that requires me to evaluate my current line-up. So I’m considering: What is important? More important? Most important? We make these judgments all the time in daily life. It is important to do laundry to have clean clothes in my drawer. But it is more important when I am down to my last pair of jeans. It is most important when I’m on my last pair of underwear! I exaggerate to make the point…I never run out of clean jeans or underwear. But that progression exists in many areas of life, large and small.

What is the difference in liking and valuing? I like nice things, a nice home, a nice car; all good. For a long time, I valued these things. In the last couple of years, I’ve realized that I don’t value these like I once did. I’ve always known that relationships are the best part of my life. But I’ve sometimes, though un-intentionally, let my need for things come before my relationships. At the moment, I’m living in a house that has had a negative impact on the freedom that Rob and I have. I didn’t intend to put a house before a marriage. But I did.

My life coach talks about “lip service” and “life service.” Simply put, this is the difference in what we say and what we do. I have sometimes given lip service when I should have been giving life service. It’s easy to do…life gets in the way of living. And small choices add up.

So what do you do if you realize you are out of sync, your priorities mis-aligned? Balancing the competing demands, needs, wants, hopes of life requires juggling and dexterity. But the process also requires honesty. I can’t balance my life if I’m not honest with myself about what I value, what is most important. And once I do that, if I see changes are needed, I have to step up. Decide if I’m going to give lip service or life service.

I’ve decided what I want. I want my soul mate back. I want this house to sell. I want my freedom back. I want road trips and adventure. I had all of that, and I gave it away for a house. But I’m gathering myself, righting myself, re-aligning priorities. I’m stepping up. I’m giving life service.

What does your body need today?

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

Today is Saturday, my one free and clear day of the week. Some weeks, I can be productive in a steady rhythm throughout the day, accomplishing more than I had on my list, and go to bed at night feeling tired, satisfied, pleased.

Other Saturdays are a study in coziness and relaxation. Even if I have a lengthy to do list, some weekends I am not able to move. I have good intentions, but I putter. I putz. I distract myself from doing chores and errands. I linger over coffee, sidetrack myself with a magazine or cooking show, I indulge in a nap late morning.

The question is why? Why am I an engine some days, and others, I can’t even turn the key in the ignition?

I used to feel guilty when I had an “off” day. Aren’t Saturdays at home supposed to be about catching up from the week, or getting ready for Monday? If you schedule a Saturday outing, a day of recreation, that’s different…that’s on your list. But just whiling away your day? Not on the program!

I finally realized that when your brain doesn’t give your body permission to take a day off, eventually, your body doesn’t ask for permission. It just takes what it needs. In extreme cases, this could result in actual illness, although I’m not talking about that scenario here. Why do we (I) think it is heroic and a good thing to be “productive” every day? Yes, I know Martha Stewart never misses a beat. But I am not Martha, nor do I aspire to be. (No offense intended…but I have to acknowledge reality.)

My reality is that I am generally a busy woman who loves to put a check mark beside items on my list. But balance is important, and time to relax, to restore, to just be, is as important…no, more important…than my busy-ness. Putting this need on the back burner doesn’t make me a super woman, it makes me inattentive to self-maintenance. There are many analogies to this: sharpening the saw (Stephen Covey); maintaining a vehicle, or putting my oxygen mask on before assisting others (my life coach). It feels counter intuitive. But taking time for myself, even if it is not scheduled, actually improves my productivity and my ability to give to others.

I may be slow, but light is breaking through.

Do you have capacity?

/ Sheila / 4 Comments

I am sometimes asked this at work: do I have capacity to add a new task or project? My answer is always yes (if you’ve read earlier posts, you may recall that I have a “yes” policy). But seriously, I do have capacity. My current position is a nice blend of projects, tasks, meetings, people…enough variety to keep it interesting and challenging, and yet not so stressful that it keeps me awake at night.

But when I think of this question in other contexts, I find myself wondering about my capacity. Everyone has a reservoir of strengths, energy, natural talent, courage, enthusiasm: the positive attributes that we all want to claim, and need, to meet daily challenges. But people have negative traits as well, and life can be derailed by discouragement, depression, fear, indecision. What is my capacity in the big picture? No life is static. There is an ebb and flow of circumstances and fortune. There is good and bad, enough to brighten and scar every human. Sometimes my capacity to absorb and bounce is much greater than at others.

It is difficult to be objective about myself. I know (or think I know) the reasons behind my my successes and failures. Even so, I can’t always explain why some days are easier; I’m focused, on target. And others, nothing works as well, or effortlessly. Isn’t that the universal human experience?

The important lesson is two-fold: an insight for myself, and a flash of enlightenment in the way I see others. For myself, I acknowledge that tenacity, persistence, and courage will carry me through the down times. I have to have faith in the process, allow time to work for me, and some days, just be willing to go to bed and get up to try again in the morning.

And how does this translate to the rest of the world? I know when I’m having a day that feels out of sync, off balance. And because I know, I make allowances for myself. Even if I’m disappointed in my performance, I can also have some patience, some tolerance for my shortcomings: tomorrow will be better; I’ll get it right the next time. I have to remind myself that when someone else disappoints me, lets me down, that I am probably seeing that person’s diminished capacity at that moment. It’s a bad day, or a bad week; but tomorrow will be better; they’ll get it right the next time. Yes, in fact, it turns out that we’re all human, and riddled with flaws as well as virtues. And although each of us can be our own worst critic, we also know when to give ourselves a pass. The challenge is to extend that to others in my life; to share the gift of grace. It isn’t easy, and it doesn’t always come naturally. But it is right.

And a personal disclaimer: if you see me not practicing this philiosphy…well, I must be having one of those days…and tomorrow will be better.