Last weekend when my sister, Margaret, was visiting, I opened the cupboard containing all my recipe books. Usually my little recipe box, with so many treasured hand-written recipes in it, sits on the middle shelf nestled beside my other recipe books. On this particular day, it mustn’t have been nestled tightly enough for when I opened the cupboard, the box jumped out, landing on the floor and generously spreading the recipes around.
Luckily, they thoughtfully fanned themselves out and my sister managed to gently nudge them back into what we hoped was more or less the right order.
A few days later my friend, Brenda, called. She was going to spend her day making a variety of squares for her son’s upcoming wedding rehearsal dinner. I grabbed my recipe box and rifled through it for some of our family’s favourites. I found some great recipes to share with Brenda and then spent a few minutes rearranging the misplaced cards.
I have some wonderful family recipes. I started collecting them as a young teenager and I’ve added to my collection over the years. These days, I often find recipes online, but it’s inside that old wooden box that I still find some of my favourites. All these recipes are hand-written, most in my handwriting, some in the handwriting of my much younger self, some in the writing of my sisters, and others in the handwriting of family and friends.
Once I’d snapped pictures and shared a few recipes with Brenda, most of them marked with stains of cocoa, or butter or sugar, I didn’t give them much more thought. That is, until we met for a hike this week. Brenda told us she had a story to share.
She filled Pam, Lynne and me in on the wedding plans and told us about the squares she’d made. Then she laughed and said, “You won’t believe this.” She proceeded to tell us she had just finished her baking when her son, the groom, called to chat as he often does. During the call he reminded her, ‘Don’t forget about Richard.’
Brenda of course, knows Richard very well. He and her son have been best friends for years and years. Richard has been to their house many times and has shared meals with them many times. Suddenly, Brenda remembered – Richard is seriously allergic to nuts. Almost every square she had made contained nuts; peanut butter, coconut, walnuts. The ones not containing nuts she was afraid to serve fearing they may have been contaminated with some kind of nut.
Luckily, Brenda has a fantastic sense of humour, and a great perspective on life. Other than feeling badly that she had to start over, we all had a good chuckle. She was laughing, thinking of starting her baking all over again.
I on the other hand, began thinking about family recipes. About how sometimes, the recipes we have gone back to time after time, are not the right ones.
We all have family recipes. Not necessarily the ones that come on little 5” x 3” little cards, with listed ingredients, directions, and oven temperatures, but ones that have guided us through life.
We have recipes from our family for how we approach life, for how we spend and save money, for what is expected of us, and for what is acceptable behaviour. We have been given recipes for how we treat others, for how we show up, for how we care for our homes and others, and for our tolerance for risk. We might even have been given recipes for where we should spend holidays, how we should vote, and how we should raise our family.
Mostly, these recipes have been passed on to us with love and the best of intentions. But sometimes, those old recipes are simply not right for new situations we find ourselves in. Sometimes we need a brand-new recipe. We need something that fits our needs. We need something that works for us and will make us flourish.
It takes courage to try a new recipe.
When I was raising our children, I had a great recipe that worked for me. It was simple. When I had to choose what to do, I simply asked myself, ‘Is this best for the kids?’ If it was, I did it. If not, I did not. It worked like a charm.
Until it did not work at all.
When they had both moved out, I found myself still reaching for this recipe to help make decisions in my life. And it no longer worked. I had to develop a completely new recipe for myself; one that fit my new circumstances, one that nudged me to flourish in a new way.
It’s September. It’s that time of year of new beginnings. Perhaps, it’s also a good time to sort through our recipe boxes and decide which of our old family recipes we should keep near the front, which can fade to the back, and which can be thrown away altogether.
There are a lot of delicious new things out there to try.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What recipe am I using?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to find out how to create new recipes.
Luckily, they thoughtfully fanned themselves out and my sister managed to gently nudge them back into what we hoped was more or less the right order.
A few days later my friend, Brenda, called. She was going to spend her day making a variety of squares for her son’s upcoming wedding rehearsal dinner. I grabbed my recipe box and rifled through it for some of our family’s favourites. I found some great recipes to share with Brenda and then spent a few minutes rearranging the misplaced cards.
I have some wonderful family recipes. I started collecting them as a young teenager and I’ve added to my collection over the years. These days, I often find recipes online, but it’s inside that old wooden box that I still find some of my favourites. All these recipes are hand-written, most in my handwriting, some in the handwriting of my much younger self, some in the writing of my sisters, and others in the handwriting of family and friends.
Once I’d snapped pictures and shared a few recipes with Brenda, most of them marked with stains of cocoa, or butter or sugar, I didn’t give them much more thought. That is, until we met for a hike this week. Brenda told us she had a story to share.
She filled Pam, Lynne and me in on the wedding plans and told us about the squares she’d made. Then she laughed and said, “You won’t believe this.” She proceeded to tell us she had just finished her baking when her son, the groom, called to chat as he often does. During the call he reminded her, ‘Don’t forget about Richard.’
Brenda of course, knows Richard very well. He and her son have been best friends for years and years. Richard has been to their house many times and has shared meals with them many times. Suddenly, Brenda remembered – Richard is seriously allergic to nuts. Almost every square she had made contained nuts; peanut butter, coconut, walnuts. The ones not containing nuts she was afraid to serve fearing they may have been contaminated with some kind of nut.
Luckily, Brenda has a fantastic sense of humour, and a great perspective on life. Other than feeling badly that she had to start over, we all had a good chuckle. She was laughing, thinking of starting her baking all over again.
I on the other hand, began thinking about family recipes. About how sometimes, the recipes we have gone back to time after time, are not the right ones.
We all have family recipes. Not necessarily the ones that come on little 5” x 3” little cards, with listed ingredients, directions, and oven temperatures, but ones that have guided us through life.
We have recipes from our family for how we approach life, for how we spend and save money, for what is expected of us, and for what is acceptable behaviour. We have been given recipes for how we treat others, for how we show up, for how we care for our homes and others, and for our tolerance for risk. We might even have been given recipes for where we should spend holidays, how we should vote, and how we should raise our family.
Mostly, these recipes have been passed on to us with love and the best of intentions. But sometimes, those old recipes are simply not right for new situations we find ourselves in. Sometimes we need a brand-new recipe. We need something that fits our needs. We need something that works for us and will make us flourish.
It takes courage to try a new recipe.
When I was raising our children, I had a great recipe that worked for me. It was simple. When I had to choose what to do, I simply asked myself, ‘Is this best for the kids?’ If it was, I did it. If not, I did not. It worked like a charm.
Until it did not work at all.
When they had both moved out, I found myself still reaching for this recipe to help make decisions in my life. And it no longer worked. I had to develop a completely new recipe for myself; one that fit my new circumstances, one that nudged me to flourish in a new way.
It’s September. It’s that time of year of new beginnings. Perhaps, it’s also a good time to sort through our recipe boxes and decide which of our old family recipes we should keep near the front, which can fade to the back, and which can be thrown away altogether.
There are a lot of delicious new things out there to try.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What recipe am I using?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to find out how to create new recipes.
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