It seems like the sourdough bread craze took the world by storm. It was the new really hip thing to do. Yes, I joined the bandwagon. (But really, I was totally ahead of it… I swear! I baked before it was cool!) During the lockdown, I had my own baking escapades – banana bread, white bread, wheat bread, rhubarb pie (I really did make the best rhubarb pie in NYC – ask my friends), croissants, cookies… you get the point. I sheltered, I quarantined, and I baked.
I had made a sourdough starter for the first time in my life over the summer. Truth be told, I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into. Sourdough starter is intense! It’s not like you can throw some ingredients together and voila! Bread! Nope, you have to feed it, take care of it, keep it warm, but not too warm, keep the area bright, but not too bright, sing to it, cuddle with it, and read it bedtime stories.
After I made my one and only batch of Dominique Ansel’s flaky croissants, I learned that I was a terrible sourdough pet mom. I probably should have given it up for adoption, sold it to a worthy parent, or put it in a sourdough starter hotel. (Yes, that is a real thing! Check out: https://sourdoughinn.com/hotel)
With my new recently acquired dutch oven (thank you my loves ❤️), I am trying my hand at sourdough bread again.
Armed with new knowledge and research, I am determined to keep my sourdough pet alive this time!
But there is this whole thing I mentioned earlier about having to feed it when it’s hungry, and keep it warm, and read bedtime stories. It’s mostly true. I’ll even play some Beethoven to help. It’s not going to bark at you, it’s not going to set an alarm and ring when it’s ready to be fed, it’s not going to nip at your feet, or cry relentlessly to get what it needs. You have to pay attention to it, learn what it looks like at it’s peak and know what it looks like when it’s hungry. You have to learn its patterns and preferences, and accommodate to them. There is no room for judgment. You cant say “You’re a crappy sourdough starter!” You appreciate it for the way the flavor changes, the way it bubbles when it’s fermenting, and what it will provide you over time. Exactly as it is.
I started thinking how much my sourdough pet has in common with relationships. I don’t necessarily mean romantic ones (definitely not my area of expertise), but I assume the principles can apply. Relationships are a fickle thing. If you’re anything like me, I’m much more of an introvert than an extrovert (although with enough wine, and in the right company, the chattiness will come out). I prefer to have one-on-one conversations than speaking in a crowd, and writing is easier for me than speaking. I can use just the right word, reframe and organize my thoughts as many times as I need, and quite frankly, not sound like a total buffoon.
Needless to say, I am pretty clumsy at making friends. Although, I’m not sure that making friends looks like an Olympic ice skating gold medal championship for anyone. I am proud to say, that I have gotten much much better at #awkwardconvos. That dance in the beginning – being just vulnerable enough – but not too vulnerable to scare the other person off, is a challenge to navigate for many.
After that, it’s like nurturing your sourdough pet.
I teach an undergraduate course called “Love Actually,” (ironic considering it’s the one aspect of my life that needs the most help!). It has been transformative for me, probably more than it has been for my students. The Cliff’s Notes version of the course – although please feel free to sign up for it – is that relationships require effort, and love in any form, has the potential to last if both parties mutually and reciprocally make the choice to put in the effort.
Like my sourdough pet, relationships require attention, feeding, and hydration. Relationships require effort and nurturing. Sometimes you have to allow others to nurture you, and other times you have to nurture others. It’s a matter of being attentive to the dynamics, and knowing when to accept and when to receive. I absolutely love when others share their life with me, and welcome me to share in their joys and sorrows – the big things, and the little things. The “OMG!!! GUESS WHATTTTTTT!!!!! I’m getting MARRIED!!!!” and the “I’m so pissed, I f*** spilled coffee on my favorite dress today! I quit! I just want to cry!!!”
Meaningful relationships thrive when we notice the intricacies of our friends. What makes them tick, what excites them, what makes them happy and what makes them sad. They require us to take an interest in other people’s lives, and take ourselves out of the spotlight. Relationships require us to feed them with compassion, empathy, love, patience, support and kindness. Relationships require us to nurture them by holding the light of hope for other’s desires, wishes and dreams.
I had an experience today, where I had hosted a small gathering and my friend asked me: “How did you remember that I liked this cheese?” I simply smiled and turned to her saying “I remembered when you mentioned that you liked it the last time we met.” She said, “I didn’t realize you were paying attention.”
So next time you’re feeling confused about how to maintain or grow a friendship – think of your sourdough pet.
Nurture it. Notice the patterns. Take the time to learn what makes others blossom and what their needs, likes, and wants are – and give them exactly that.
Simple Serendipities 