I am a human who dreads mistakes. Like most humans I suspect. But my dread, of such a mundane and common place thing, has inhibited so much in my life. While growing up I stayed silent, or stayed home, for fear of making some social faux pas that I perceived would ruin any and all possibilities. As a young adult I did not pursue things that interested me because I was afraid of making a mistake: choosing the wrong career, the wrong school, the wrong adventure. Wrong, to me, meant mistake.
Still, I am not sure. I love to experiment. I love to bake. But what if it is all a mistake? What if this is wrong? What if, what if, what if… Say anything enough times and it will stop making sense.
Mistake 1: studying psychology. But, it led to so much beauty: Residential counselor job where I learned so much about myself, the resilience of the human spirit, and met some of the most beautiful humans I will ever know. Also, was able to live in Santa Cruz, and meet my future husband.
Mistake 2: Studying the Pastry Arts. But, it led to so much growth: living in San Francisco and Seattle and now Durham (a brand new coast). I uncovered my passion for bread. I discovered that I am brave, capable, and lovely in my own quirky way.
Mistake 3: Choosing to pursue bread-Sour Bakery specifically. But, when I am not being overly critical, it brings me so much joy: Experimenting, eating, and sharing.
I think that mistakes are the things we do that we are not sure about, that something in us guides us towards. Mistakes may just be the first step to a truth.