Mise en place. French for “everything in place.” It has been my work ethic, my everyday mantra, how I set up my station in the kitchen and how I pack my bag for work the night before. It’s my mental prep-list, my mise, my life.
Lately my life has been the antithesis of Mise. It seems everything has been out of place. People and places are changing and I am feeling the growing pains of becoming an adult and blooming into a woman. It sounds nostalgic and wonderful, but like my 4 year old roommate who is terrified of kindergarten and the possibilities of the unknown, I’m sitting here biting my nails to the quick.
I have shed more tears and hurt more deep down in a place I didn’t know could feel that kind of pain. The candle has been burning at both ends, I am tired physically, emotionally and mentally. Despite the busy nature of my life and the distractions, I sit here on a Sunday morning, music playing, a 4 year old throwing a fit, laughing, doing crafts, eating soup, frantic picture hanging, laser glasses, the purr of a cat and the washing machine humming in the background. I find a strange comfort in these moments, and as the sun beams down on my face I am reminded of warmth, growth, life and new beginnings. I breathe in, breathe out.
For every season that dies, a new one is birthed and the transition is slow, gradual. But the chill of winter wears away, ice melts, the ground softens, flowers bloom, and one day you wake up and everything is covered in blankets of green.
I never see the change until it happens, and the troubles of today become the troubles of yesterday, my frozen heart will warm and have the chance to grow, stretch and bloom into something greater than this mess. I don’t have to wait for everything to be in it’s place, it’s already there.
