I did it all for the Cookie

Recipe: Spiced Molasses Cream Pies

Spice Molasses Cream Pies, 2024.

I’ve carried around with me from apartment to apartment a set of journals I wrote almost ten years ago. They’re quite painful to read. I never thought I would read them again. I assumed they’d be washed up somewhere on trash island or in landfill. I forgot about my LA therapist who told me my mother was too tired to properly parent me. I blocked out regularly sleeping with a tall Armenian man named Scott. I certainly did not remember how depressed I was. Each entry almost always mentions my obsession with Grey’s Anatomy. At times these entries are amusing, even though I didn’t feel funny at the time.

Journaling started as a tool of manifestation. I believed (and still might believe) writing is a pathway to the divine. When the pen hits the paper it casts a declaration of sorts. As I’ve read the pages from years ago I realized I act differently than what appears on paper. I know my habits now and have a perceived level of awareness around cycles of stress and comfort. The awkwardly hilarious part about rereading my thoughts and desires is how much I’ve been gaslighting myself.

I watched an interview on YouTube recently. The journalist was asking an actor how they make decisions. The actor replied with an exquisite short answer, “I do whatever feels like love.” As Oprah would say, I experienced an “a-ha moment.” Nourishing myself feels like love, whereas indulging myself doesn’t. Exploring what I’m afraid of feels like love, but playing it safe isn’t. Leading by intuition and gut instinct feels like love and familiarity is cautionary.

It presents simply; the definition of love is rather complex and fraught depending on who you ask. For me, love is an act, more verb than noun. In the romance languages the verbs are prefaced with “to.” For example, in Italian the verb “to have” is “avere.” In Italian, “to love” is “amare,” which furthers my conviction love involves free will. The small, incremental changes I make to act upon love grant me access to living more authentically, more purposefully. Like all action and movement, this is of course an uphill battle. One of the values I revisit is “trying.” I have profound respect for others when they try. Acting upon love, even when you’re just loving yourself can feel radical. What could be more radical than proposing the question “does this feel like love?” with everything you do.