I just made my first non-microwave, non-instant meal in my new kitchen. Sure, it was just eggs, but it reminded me how much I take my nervous system for granted.

Up in the other apartment, I knew where everything was. Moreover, my body knew where everything was. With a minimum of conscious thought, I could whirl around the kitchen and create food, at least when it came to what I made most often. Now I have a new space, and a new set of patterns for my muscles to learn. I need to build anew my internal layout stored as "kitchen" to fit the space I'm in and where I've put things.

It's a dance. This many steps to the cupboard with the pan. This kind of turn to get to the stove. A step back to open the fridge. How long does it take this stove to heat up? For now, I am awkward with it, all limbs and over-thinking. In time, though, the steps will become familiar. My body will learn, and my thoughts will take a back burner where they are free to create.

I miss the ease of knowing my space, but it's only a matter of time and practice.


felicula: A dark image of a week-old tabby kitten sitting in the palm of my hand. (Default)

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags