Therapy

There's something about baking and cleaning that I find therapeutic.

In baking it's the steps and the methods that are sequential that make the whole process very fulfilling. You measure ingredients. You follow the recipe. You mix A with B. You cream it. You fold it and you watch it slowly form. You taste a bit of it and are able to imagine the end product.

I enjoy every step. I enjoy it because I don't think about anything else but it. It's a break from the world. From crap. From noise. From traffic. From assignments. From feelings.

For those few moments, I only want to get the cake right. Nothing else matters.

And then there's cleaning. Where you put things in order. Folding is one of my favorite chores. I sit with a heap of clothes smelling like soap kissed by the sun. I start with the big ones. I make sure the trousers are turned right-side in. Then I move on to the shirts. Both sleeves in and I halve it. Now the tiny things like underwear. I love bright coloured underwear. Pinks, blues, reds. I use the LIM-method of folding (cause I learnt it from Auntie Melon)where I tuck in the bottom so it remains securely in a ball.

At the end of that I feel like I've done some good in the world. I may not have saved a life, scaled a mountain or performed open-heart surgery but I feel accomplished. I've brought about some order, to an orderless heap of cotton.

I feel prouder than I should be.

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I start my placements tomorrow. And I'm crazy nervous. I would bake and clean if I could but it doesn't seem feasible at the moment so I write about it.

Dear God, please be with me as I go into that school tomorrow. Make me a blessing. Amen.