My old rice pot really isn’t that old; its just 21. I bought this designer pot from the 90% off store at the outlet mall in Southern Indiana. It was 1999 and I had just spent an entire year saving nearly all my income to build a brand-new home. The first house we bought was just 64k and now, this home came in at an incredible 111k after the custom changes; the additions of a fireplace with eyeball lights, vaulted kitchen ceiling, and partial brick front façade. It was nearly twice what we spent just six years earlier; to say we were broke was a bigger understatement than Y2K itself. I remember my spouse complaining about our 711 dollar a month mortgage which was a whopping 50 dollars more a month than the apartment we rented the previous year. Fifty dollars was our weekly grocery budget at Aldi’s, and it bought enough whole foods to produce three squares a day for a family of four plus a medium sized dog. The house payment on our first home was exactly 481 a month and after we sold it (we moved to Europe and back) we lost traction in our careers. Ever hear of two steps forward and one step back? Our lives were more like one step forward and two steps back.
Which brings me full circle to my magic rice pot. My career wasn’t really a career; I was a retail employee, and when I found a part-time job (in addition to my office day job) at the now defunct Spiegel outlet store, I was in Hoosier heaven! Each week, I would carefully inspect which expensive (but defective) kitchen accoutrements had arrived that day from catalog returns. There they were, scratched, mismatched, bent, and warped; they lined most of the back shelves of the store. When I bought the pot, I didn’t know it would eventually be used to create my famous garlic rice; in fact, for the first few years, it was used primarily for making scrambled eggs. The pot traveled from Columbus Indiana to St. Clair Michigan and then sat around underutilized in the cupboard for a few more years before it found its true calling. In the summer of 2005, my Cuban friend Chris, moved to Boston and before she left, she handed me an incredible cook book (A Taste of Old Cuba by: Maria Josefa Lluria De O’Higgins) it wasn’t long after that my magic garlic rice was born!
In 2015, the magic rice pot was one of the only worldly possessions I carried with me on the way to my mid-life restart. For me, it represented something tangible from my past; a Mom who prepared meals for her family. It also represented something I did well; cook. Lately I’ve come to view it differently; I realize that the reason I keep my magical, misshapen pot is because it found its purpose. When I use it for rice, its magical. When I use it for other things, those things burn, and it requires a herculean effort (complete with scouring powder and pad) to scrub it clean again.
My life has been much like the magical little rice pot. I’ve spent many moons exploring ideas, jobs, locations – each time putting the misshapen, dead end attempts back on a shelf in a dark quiet cupboard. It wasn’t until 2007 that I discovered my calling and purpose; once this happened, I was never confused again. I decided to use my life to inspire and coach others on living a life by design. Just like my pot, has a highest and best purpose (I’ve got to slightly bend the handle to get the lid to snap tight) I do too when I use my talents, gifts, skills, and experiences the right way — I create magical results. There’s a lot we can learn from objects, scenery, and patterns in our lives if we are willing to really look at them. There are lessons all around, hints, clues (and secret sauces) that open our eyes when we are ready to see — ready to take a risk and then commit to showing up as the best version of ourselves.