A few weeks ago, one of the writers from Umgås--a Scandi magazine I reference all the time at my restaurant--contacted me out of the blue. I was dumb-founded and honored; he wanted to write a story about my journey through music and food. This week, the story was published. (If you feel like checking it out, it's here).
Anyway, I liked the questions that the writer (Sean) asked me. He was disarming, even over the phone, and I found myself able to talk to him candidly. I was surprised how naturally I could remember my Grandma Ruth, how readily I could discuss my own life philosophies, and how easily I could express my gratitude. Reading my own words in the article this week, it hit me:
The path I'm on is the one that suits me.
There are so many paths that used to call me, but they're not for me, and they never were. That path my parents walked? I'm too hot-headed, too stubborn for it. That full-time singer path I always wanted? I'm too rooted, too raw to walk it. That full-time chef path? I'm too much of a writer, too quiet to walk it. That full-time stay-at-home mom path? I'm too bold, too dreamy to walk it.
But the little path I've carved, the one where I wake up in the morning, write at my piano, play with my kids, spend the day running a brunch pub, and come home to my family and our home in the woods? Well I'm not too much of anything for it. It's made for me.
Reader, there's a Swedish adjective called "lagom," which translated, means: neither too little or too much...just right." Sometimes, it's easy to wish we were on somebody else's path, but it's really not for us. I hope your life path right now is as lagom for you as mine feels to me. (Truth be told, I'm sure I'll feel out of balance again by next week. But at least this week, everything feels just right.)
With that, I'm off to bed. I spent the afternoon gathering the last of the elderberries from our woods. I'll be cooking with them this Thursday night at my restaurant, if you feel like tasting my food. Then on Friday night, I'll be playing a show with my friend Ernie Hendrickson at Memorial Hall, if you feel like hearing some music. I'm all over the place, and yet right where I want to be. See you next week. -Em