In many Muslim cultures, when you want to ask them how they’re doing, you ask: in Arabic, Kayf haal-ik? or, in Persian, Haal-e shomaa chetoreh? How is your haal? I am not asking how many items are on your to-do list, nor asking how many items are in your inbox. I want to know how your heart is doing, at this very moment. Tell me. Tell me your heart is joyous, tell me your heart is aching, tell me your heart is sad, tell me your heart craves a human touch. Examine your own heart, explore your soul, and then tell me something about your heart and your soul. –From Omid Safi’s “The Disease of Being Busy”
We live in a cult of busy. We wear our inboxes as a humble badge of honor. We take secret pleasure in telling the friends we rarely see that we’re booked for weeks. We embrace the tools and technology as our deliverance because ordering from Seamless while in our Uber is our salvation. Never mind the fact that we don’t know what’s in the food we ordered, or perhaps we’re handing over our hard-earned money to misogynists who sometimes refer to their company as “Boober,” but that’s for another time. We desire the world and everything in it because we want the whole of life right now; we’re frightened of missing out, of not being, of fearing the other side of the what if we didn’t? question. We pin, tweet and talk about all the ways in which we can be efficient, how we can maximize time. For what? So we can spend more hours of the day filling it with stuff? Seeing people we don’t care to say or scrolling through pages on the internet so we can feel culturally attuned or relevant?
Many of my friends are mothers and I have such a profound respect for their second shift. My closest friend tweets at me that she wish she could experience this thing we call “me time.” We’ve been conditioned to fill our days with meetings that get us nowhere under the guise or promise of somewhere (let’s solve this problem by calling an hour-long meeting!) and we overschedule ourselves into oblivion, and hold some sort of secret, yet torturous pride over the fact that we are so busy. It must mean we’re moving in the right direction, right? That this is our personal velocity, right?
I don’t know. I say this from the perspective of someone who doesn’t even have children yet is busy. Still. I’ve got a lot going on. I’m juggling three incredible projects so that I’ll have the means to pay taxes, pay for dental work that insurance won’t cover, pay for said insurance, student loans and credit card bills. I take on projects to save for holidays and this journey I’m taking out west toward the end of the year. When I’m not commuting four hours a day, 3 days a week, I’m seeing beloveds, I’m dealing with family/personal stuff, I’m writing, editing, baking, and taking care of all the little things that manage to consume an inordinate amount of time.
And through all of this, I wonder if I’m being present. I’m not. I’m forever in-between time, dodging it, tracking it. And I worry how all of this busyness will get me back to the wonder. I wonder what happens if I stop saying I’m busy and fill some portion of my day with nothingness.
A small step forward? I’m participating in the Bored but Brilliant project–an attempt to pry myself away from my cell phone so I can spend that time being creative. And while this may seem like a way to get efficient, for me, it’s about getting minimal. About replacing something wasteful with something meaningful.
And then I plan on asking myself–what is making me so busy? Am I being present? Who or what is taking me away from it? How can I get back to the wonder.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe from Small Plates, Sweet Treats, modified
1 cup natural cane sugar
1/2 cup unsalted pistachios
2 tbsp unsweetened coconut flakes
1 cup coconut cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 egg whites
1/4 cup honey
Sprinkle 1/3 of the sugar in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat until the sugar begins to melt. You’ll be tempted to stir it, don’t. Resist temptation and let the heat do its thing. Sprinkle another third of the sugar and let this melt as well. Add the rest of the sugar and continue cooking until the color is a medium amber. Swirl the pan so that all the sugar caramelizes evenly.
Stir in the pistachios and coconut and immediately pour the caramel onto a baking sheet lined with lightly greased parchment paper. Let it cool completely and then chop it coarsely. I found this easier to break apart with my hands, but you do you.
In a bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the heavy cream and vanilla to soft peaks. Make sure you’re on the highest setting, and if you’re clueless about soft peaks, check out this cool pictorial. Soft peaks is the stage where the cream begins to hold its shape and then abandons it completely. Reserve in the refridgerator in a large bowl until you’re ready to use.
Wash and dry the bowl (I love how some bakers assume that you’re rolling with multiple stand mixing bowls–but I digress) and place the egg whites in the bowl and whisk them on high speed until they’re light and tripled in volume. Essentially, you’re a hair beyond the “frothing” stage. While you’re whipping the whites, heat the honey in the microwave or on the stovetop until it’s barely simmering (30 seconds). Gradually, on low speed, pour the honey into the whipped whites. Turn the speed back up to high and finish whipping to stiff peaks and until the bowl feels cool to the touch.
Gently fold the meringue and the caramelized nut/coconut mixture into the reserved cream. Pour into a freezer-safe container and freeze until solid (at least four hours). Remove from the freezer 5 minutes before serving.