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"Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Everyone of us is part of that jewel - a facet of that jewel. And in the perspective of infinity, our differences are infinitesimal. We are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not.
"It's not the honors and the prizes and the fancy outsides of life which ultimately nourish our souls. It's the knowing that we can be trusted, that we never have to fear the truth. That the bedrock of our lives from which we make our choices is very good stuff.
"Deep down we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What really matters is helping others win too, even if it means slowing down, and changing our course now and then.
"Beside my chair is a French sentence from Saint-Exupery's 'Little Prince.' It reads, 'L'essentiel est invisible pour les veux.' What is essential is invisible to the eye. Well, what is essential about you? And who are those who have helped you become the person you are?"
Fred Rogers
I have (for ever long) thoroughly enjoyed stirring a seasoned pot to a tasty joy, having invited good folks from far and wide to dive in, take their fill, then join the craze playing whatever happens to be my most recently minted odd-ball garden game.
Unforgettable, those are. It's been a while!
On account of our journey through the portal, otherwise known as the pandemic blundered by prevailing epidemics and vexing vicissitudes, it has been a while!
Ooh! It's been a good long while.
So, have you been privy lately to any of our cooking stories. No? Well, good for you! And for me too!! In the interim I have been amazed at how often easily dismissable teeny-weeny stories offer deep insights into supposedly big kahuna stories, especially those bobbing and weaving behind mirrored smoke screens and bald chicanery.
Ooh!
I must digress, and spill beans on one of my non-invitational cooking escapades. Not epic, this one. Essential. Not huge. A pin-light. Not prosaic. Pithy.
It is my Baby Sis's cooking story, actually; just another set of teachable moments for me, surely, I trust, on a graduating trajectory from me being a venerable chalkboard to becoming a shining superhero! No?
Yes!
Whenever Baby Sis visits (always loaded with goodies), barely inhaling the fresh scents of my gladness on arrival, barely kicking off her flying shoes, barely aware of the time change, off goes her honored banker's managerial cape. Into my kitchen she shuffles, jam-packs my cupboards, and sets a pan on the hot stove.
"Girl, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I am doing, Bro?"
"You're supposed to be here on holiday."
"Don't worry 'bout me. Settle yourself. You are the one always busy. Running here. Running there. Busy-busy-busy. Can't get you on the phone. You rest your foot. I had a long sit-down getting here. Have some mittai; it's in that plastic bag. When last have you tasted channa? Try some. In a shortwhile we'll be heading to the grocery store. They are still open, right? Your fridge is empty."
That is sort of the general pattern of our usual welcome. And she knows exactly what meal would lift me lightspeed into a seventh heaven: bakes!
Mhm. That's what they call it. Bakes! I have no idea why they couldn't call it flap-jacks or bush tea splendors or mama's love cakes or wake-up-children-joy-is-served or oochie-ouchie-lau-lau; they just call it bakes!
Ain't need but four ingredients, if that, to make! Regardless, it is yet another instant proof (solid) that our peoples from way-way-waaaaay-back-when knew exactly how to make the most spectacular splendors with the barest of ingredients. They knew exactly how to get it passed on up through all of our branching bloodlines to keep us joyously connected. Just something about necessity, I guess!
And my Baby Sis knows how to make bakes like no one else on earth does. And makes it in no time! Oh, fill me up!!!
But here is the stupid thing: I've made bakes over a thousand times (no hyperbole there; that's probably an undercount) and for whatever set of reasons spreading the gamut of trials, from hilarious to screaming smoke alarms to charcoal surprises, I have never been able to make bakes right - not near the way Baby Sis makes them. Not ever!
Bless my heart, I haven't given up.
And just in case you're unfamiliar with my methods, a) I'm one of those fellas whose cooking procedures consist of a sprinkle and a splash and a dash and a stir and a whir, using all of the natural senses I'm born with to make ingredients sizzle on the palate, b) I enjoy creating new un-name-able meals by pure inspiration, c) I've done so for all of many gatherings and parties and fellowships in varied cultures around the globe, and d) setting aside a spread of hilarious memories, not too many folks have made a run for it; they return upon invitation. But bakes beat me. So my Baby Sis decided on a fool-proof plan for me. She decided I should give my creative brain a break from bakes and that I should make smarter use of my scientific side, if indeed I wanted to make bakes like she makes them. So, she gave me a recipe. Ain't but four ingredients, mind you, including water. And she watched over me working. Delicately.
Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Uh! Fail.
"But Bro, you getting better!"
Isn't she nice?
I've since seriously been toying with the idea that all sincerely cooked meals (in part and parcel with their recipes) are infused with a certain je ne sais quoi, some concocted elegance of a cook's head and hand and heart, some nature of a cook's thoughts and feelings, etc, all secretly mixed-in molecularly. I don't know. As I said, I am toying with the concept, not yet ready to make that claim on account of my own failings and lack of scientific proof.
Then a few minutes ago - literally - a thought struck me! It struck me hard! Like a thunder suprise! Then a bolt of lightening! Zap!
Hmm?
Oh, dear-dear-dear! Oh, dear-dear-dear-dear, dear!
Perhaps I just discovered the problem! Hmmmmmm? Let me think about this. Hmmm! Yep. I think I am onto something, and that is half of the reason I am telling you this teeny-weeny round-about story. A pin-light. Supernatural genius. Ancestral wisdom: je ne sais quoi. That's the recipe.
I am thinking the four ingredients - bakes - is the bowl that houses this magical je ne sais quoi. The bakes I love so well, the bakes that reach all my duly necessary parts to lift me to its seventh heaven is made of my Baby Sis's je ne sais quoi. I will never have access to my Baby Sis's je ne sais quoi - minted in marvelously secret ways. This meal is designed precisely to embody one's je ne sais quoi.
I had been absenting my je ne sais quoi from the recipe. I was filling these bakes with fake je ne sais quoi, envious je ne sais quoi, pretentious je ne sais quoi. My bakes need my je ne sais quoi; my bakes will never be my Baby Sis's bakes. The heavenly joys my bakes are intended to spread can only be delivered to the palates for which my je ne sais quoi is precisely intended, and I haven't baked those yet.
Ooh-la-la! Ancestral Genius!!!
No wonder it is called bakes!
Even though there are folks who call them floats. I see that now. Magical.
This epiphany has caused me to do a little soul-searching again, considering those facets of the magnificent jewel of which we are a part. So this time I posed myself two questions:
1. What is essential about me? (I perceive this 'significant thing' will certainly be part of the molecular make-up of my je ne sais quoi.)
2. What are my essentials along this segment of my journey? (I perceive there are necessities of life and living that keep my vision, my mission, my intention, my wants, and my needs in optimal alignment that need occasional adjustments.)
Whether or not this epiphany is a rewarding solution as imagined, it seems a good pair of questions to land on in the process of designing character and building cohesive community. And it is refreshing! So, may I ask?
- What is essential about you?
- What are the essentials for your current journey?
Ooh-la-la! Isn't life intriguing? It surely seems so. Be awesome!
L'essentiel est invisible pour les veux.
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Welcome to SEASON SEVEN, 're-CLAIMED,' episode one - character design - curated by Neville DeAngelou.
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ILICET - A Time To Begin Again (True Story) 
