I’m one of those people that looks up statistics about mundane things like how many people can do a pull up after 40 (less than 10%) or how many books the average American read last year (too disappointing to share). Despite the topic, what consistently shocks me is just how few people find new things or even try.
Trying new things has become my hobby since van life where the new thing was “how I live.” My latest focus? Gluten free baking. This new hobby felt about as unlikely as getting in the van in the first place. In the van, I didn’t even have an oven for 3 years. I didn't miss it either. Not once did I wish to make a cookie. But I love a sweet treat and I hate spending $9 on a cookie bar that is not good, so here I am. Buying flour. Reading about flour proteins. Learning to bake gluten free.
If you know anything about gluten free items, you know this is a scientific quandary unlike baking with wheat flour. In the world of gluten free, you can screw it up by going too fast or cooking in the wrong pan. If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve seen just how many times I’ve failed at my bakes already this year. I’ve made French bread that looked like a poop emoji. Sandwich bread that was the density and texture of a rock.
Every step of the way I’ve surprised myself by not quitting. I take a picture for my memories, laugh about it with my girlfriend who still tries even the poop shaped breads, then research the adjustment to try again. I wasn’t this welcoming of failure or trying new things as a kid. Thinking back, I’m pretty sure I quit everything I wasn’t decent at on the first try. I would look around and see others excelling while I was struggling and decide it just wasn’t for me. On to the next. I could not imagine a world where failure could be fun.
I don’t know what changed, but there’s something inside of me that’s willing to find something new to fail at.
An unexpected thing has happened as I’ve shared these aspirations and moments that feel like failure. People share what they love with me, too. The things they are willing to fail at, just like me with my baking. Not just stories of oddly shaped sourdough fails, either. They’re telling me about learning to juggle and sing. Tap dance classes and art they never thought was good enough to share.
It’s really beautiful to see all of us having this advent calendar moment. We allowed ourselves to fail at something. To try. Now, the big day has arrived and behind this door is a treat for trying. The reward? Finding joy in a world that’s bombarding our senses with bad news, sure, but most of all it’s finding something new to love all because we were willing to fail.
