About a month ago I decided to bake blueberry muffins.
For those that know me, the fact that I was even entertaining the idea of domesticity was indeed a Christmas miracle.
Anyhoo… whilst I was making the batter and pre-heating the oven, I began to smell something burning. Nothing catastrophic, there was no smoke, but it was enough to make me turn off my oven. It was probably the element burning the dust off because it had been a couple of mon…*ahem* …it had been “awhile” since I had used my oven. So I promptly turned it back on.
And…the light didn’t go on. You know the light I’m talking about, the little red one under the temperature “bake” or “broil” button. “Oh no! “ I thought to myself. “My oven has broken! Whatever shall I do?” Ok, this wasn’t quite my internal dialogue which was somewhat peppered with “colourful” language. So, I waited a few more minutes then tried again. Still no light. So I did what most people do when it a crisis
and posted my crisis as a Facebook status.
And got all sorts of diagnostics! It could be the fuse. Or the element. Probably the top element.
Next, I phoned my dad who figured it was probably the fuse. So I found the fuse and struggled with all my might to remove it from the panel but with no luck. So I took a picture of it with my cell phone and emailed it to him. But alas, the image was too dark for him to assess the problem. So, before I sent for the repairman my father (the hero in most of my emergency situations), came over, with a pair of pliers so he could remove the fuse, but not before trying the oven.
And lo and behold it worked.
And I’ve figured out why. I freaked out over the smell, quickly turned off the oven and when I turned it back on the light didn’t glow red I ASSUMED the oven was broken. The light only turns on when the oven is heating up to the temperature you have set. Once it reaches that temperature the light turns off.
And my oven was still warm, at the temperature reached and therefore didn’t have the little light glow red.
For an entire month I believed my oven was broken when,
Everything was at it should be, but I needed the light as proof. Evidence that things were working.
I sooo do this in life. I think the worse case scenario if I can see proof of success when I think I SHOULD see it. I get hung up on having to see physical evidence rather than believe in the sincerity of others.
I need to meddle and pester and check and re-check for confirmation, usually in an effort to confirm my suspicions…
which is really quite sad when you think about it.
Most preconceived notions are about as substantial as cotton candy.
Really, we don’t need to see little red lights in order to believe that the mechanics of life are in working order.
We don’t need proof of happiness. We just need to believe in happiness.
The order WE establish is insignificant,
contentment exists silently and unobtrusively waiting for us to just sit back,
and discover it for ourselves.
Hopefully it won’t take months of believing fallacies before we discover it as so.