Saturday Morning Pancakes

I am what you call a meloncholy. If I don't pay close attention, I can allow myself to revel too much in the beautiful tragicness of life. And if I'm not really careful, I can be consumed by it. This is my plan against such a deadly unhappy thing.

Not so long ago, on a Saturday morning, I crept out of bed over my husband who was still asleep even though the sun was full-on in the window and it was past 11AM. We usually don't have any responsibilities on Saturday mornings, so we do tend to sleep in. On this particular morning, saturated with the childlike feeling of complete Saturday freedom, I decided to make pancakes. And this time, not the kind you get from Jiffy mix and milk. Nope, I was going to make real scratch pancakes. I found a recipe online that looked reasonable and tasty, retrieved the ingredients from the overhead cabinets in our little apartment kitchen, and went at it.

Now, it may seem silly, but just the creative motions of making pancakes and then having a feast of them while watching cartoons with my husband made me glowingly happy. I felt energized, like I could get up and meet life with a newfound spark of passion. It got me thinking: why can't I always indulge my sense of contentment with something as simple as pancakes? It doesn't have to be food, it can be anything from the way the morning sun is glistening on the grass to a fond memory of times with a loved one. The point is, always, to linger on that moment or that thing, and let it lift you above whatever is keeping you down.

So that's the Pancake Plan. Everytime I post on this blog, I intend to reference something that made me stop for a moment and realize how lucky I am to be human and to feel.