Today, I somehow ended up messing around in my inner philosophical kitchen for a while and I got some wonderful-smelling life wisdom out of that:

We humans were all born with our own unique set of ingredients, and by living fully, we are creating our own perfect, delicious cake that is true to our nature. So for simplicity’s sake, let’s say that life is about creating a cake unique in style and taste.
Now, why the hell do we get so hung up about the egg?

Wait, wait, I can explain.

So there’s one cake only YOU can bake. The one only you have the heavenly installed starter kit for. The one cake whose recipe only you understand, and to which you have a beautiful set of ingredients unlike any other. One should think that you would go about that delicious business giddy as Mr. Bubble, curiously exploring the contents of the kit you were given by mother nature, eager to find out what kind of cake you would get to create. It should be with utter amazement that you scrutinize every single item, properly taken by all the smells, the feels and the difference in textures.
I’d assume you’d even show your kit to your baker friends and that they’d show you theirs, in fact that everyone would be inspired, engaging in conversations as to how to go about the business of baking. Plans would be exchanged and everyone would help everyone else along on the way to… CAKE. So far, not a single drop of jealousy would have clouded our sparkly eyes. One should think that this would be fun!

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The real reason we’re not happy bakers.

So now what? Something must have happened between then and CAKE, because instead of being a merry bunch of bakers feeding eachother spoonfuls of our dough, you (and almost everyone else I know) started fussing about the egg in our set of ingredients, and you thereby put the cakemaking matter on hold.

That’s where hell came in.

The whole thing went south when you picked up the message that something wasn’t quite right with your egg.
Was it someone looking at it in a weird way, was it someone trying to rub away a gooey bit that stuck to the shell? Was it someone pointing to a crack that wasn’t supposed to be there? Was it someone suggesting that your particular egg was too wide, the wrong color, sort of funny-smelling, maybe pass its sell-by date?

Whatever it was, suddenly you saw it too. Damn, it really was a bit wide, and – oh, no! – others had a white egg and not a brown one like you, why hadn’t you ever noticed that there actually was a weird smell to it, and Jesus, the crack!

Where there previously was none, there was – in fact, there IS – a problem. Exit giddiness, enter problemsolving mode. “Better fix this unless I want to risk ruining my cake!” All the glorious ingredients that you were so joyful over are now forgotten and you have become anxious and totally focused on that egg.
You compare its look to every other egg, especially those on the covers of popular cake-magazines. Holy hell! Every egg but yours seems in better shape.

And so you put all your grit to it, trying everything.
You polish. You bleach. You mask. You glue. You want to change your egg with a vengeance, and since you can’t seem to shape it the way that restores your happy, you end up hating it. Thinking that, since the egg is wrong, who’s to say that the rest of your ingrediences are any good?

And who the fuck said life was supposed to be fun anyway? Stupid egg, you think.

Your thinking is wrong.
Did you know that it is impossible to make a cake with a perfect-looking egg? It must have slipped your mind that, to be of any use for your cakebaking proceedings, you need to actually USE your egg. And to use it, what’s the point in focusing on keeping its outer shell perfect in the first place? To bring your egg to its divine use, you need to BREAK its shell.

So, to you, to all of us: Let’s stop polishing our eggs and bake our cakes already!

Let me know when you got the dough, I’d love a taste of it.

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