Hands Off

Tonight I cooked a real dinner. It's a rare occurrence these days (I don't count omelets, salads, and nachos), so it's an even rarer occurrence when the dinner turns out well⎯like how I actually planned it, instead of a shadow of a great meal. So much of cooking is the timing and balance of everything. I might have great ideas for the main course and the sides, but one or the other will usually suffer because I'm not practiced enough in the juggling act.

But tonight, it all came together. Balsamic & herb marinated chicken, baby portobello mushrooms, and steamed asparagus with herb-garlic butter sauce. I ate it all in about a quarter of the time it took to prepare it. Ha. But as I was scarfing it down, I was thinking of how it all came together. It was a really easy meal, so the secret was all in the timing and giving a light touch only when needed. Prepping all of the ingredients before I ever turned on the stove, then letting the stove do its work with minimal interruption. Allowing the chicken to cook just long enough before turning on the asparagus. Throwing in the mushrooms when the chicken was almost done, and throwing together the sauce in the midst of keeping an eye on everything. Pulling everything off the heat at the same time and putting it together.

I thought of my early attempts at cooking. I always wanted to do too much. Stir too much, beat too long, saute the daylights out of everything. The "more is better" concept was burned into my brain, and it took a while⎯and a few gross dinners⎯to figure out the art of the light touch.

I thought of a conversation about plants that I had earlier in the evening with my neighbor. He complimented my plants and said he has a black thumb. I replied that it only takes knowing when to water them. The rest of the time they basically take care of themselves. A light touch.

Some of the most beautiful⎯and delicious⎯things in life come to fruition when we learn how to pull our hands back. We learn the ways of our Creator, who knew just when to cease, rest, and say, "It is good."

What else in my life could stand a lighter touch, but I'm overdoing or overthinking it? Or neglecting it altogether because I fear going to the extreme? 

Where in your life do you need to take your hands off?