Last night I put on my cooking music and stepped into the kitchen, armed with the knowledge that I really don’t belong near an oven. I’ve decided in the last week, that

it’s really time I stopped hiding from my culinary incompetency and do something about it.

So I cooked a big meal for BGC, and only fucked up 1.5 of the things I made.

BGC is the Jamie Oliver in our relationship,

but I was determined not to ask him for help. Which resulted in yet another weird congealed gravy situation, and some very singed bits of food. But the rest of my roast was a lot better than the last time, where the chicken ended up upside down with cementesque cauliflower cheese.

I love growing and mastering new things, but somehow in the last couple of years I’ve stopped trying to get better at cooking and resorted to repeatedly eating toast, spaghetti bolognese, or going out for pho way too many nights.

I knew I would probably bugger something up last night, but I decided to give it a red hot go anyway.

That’s how kids learn and grow.

We weren’t born knowing everything, we tried things and failed and then tried them again.

We weren’t afraid of failing,

so we kept trying and learning and growing and mastering.

Until somewhere along the line someone came along and made us feel like failure was the worst thing in the world.

We started to feel like everyone else always knew what they were doing so we started to pretend we knew what we were doing too.

Let me assure you – not many people know what they’re doing.

Most people are just following other people because other people seem to know what they’re doing.

So if you secretly don’t know what you’re doing in life, just do lots of things.

Do things until you find things you love doing, do them even when you’re shit at them, keep doing them until you’re a pro.

Do things that scare you and frustrate you until they don’t scare or frustrate you anymore.

And then find some new things to do, and by the end of your life, you will have grown and mastered so many cool things, and you will have lived a life worth living.

Even if you still can’t cook gravy.