My grandma punches her bread dough.
Most women roll their bread dough out, neatly sealing the edges with water and gently placing the loaf in a prepared pan. It's the best way to obtain the prettiest loaf. It's meticulous.
And then? There's grandma.
*wham! wham! wham!*
My grandmother is the most determined woman I know in real life. Once she decides she's going to DO something, she does it. Nothing stands in her way. She's a never give up, never surrender kind of gal.
Hers has been a life of projects.
And I think of Grandma every time I punch my bread dough (I use her recipe, of course because that's what you DO with homemade bread. You make it like Grandma). She simply places a dab of oil in her loaf pan, places her dough on top of it and *whams!* it. alot. repeatedly.
Then she flips the dough and repeats the process.
Then she flips it again and slightly tucks the edges under. or not. And just like that, she's done.
This is definitely the quicker way to do it, but it's a pain. Rolling is a pain as well, just a slower version of it. Bread making as a whole is kind of a pain in the buns (ha!) but Grandma shortens the pain. with intensified vigor! as is her way.
I feel that way about my recovery. I'm emotionally exhausted. I'm physically exhausted. Is it possible to get spiritually exhausted? I don't know. But I want to POWER THROUGH Step 4 and 5. I'm ready to be done with them for the present day (though I know it's impossible to ever just "check" Step 4 and 5 off. or any step for that matter...) and I'm ready to take it. I'm ready to look inside myself and rip open memories and past hurts and hurtings and offenses given and taken.
I'm ready to *wham!* my recovery.
And sometimes when I get in the middle of a project (of which I also have many) I start to wonder what I was thinking. why? why? why? do I do this? and as I wondered why I was putting myself through all of this emotional strain while trying to balance everything else, one of my favorite bands blasted through my Pandora Station.
I'm just in the middle of punching.
It's always like this in the middle.
It's in the "getting worse before it gets better" stage, and I know -from repeated personal experience -that it always get better.
I would say I've got the loaves to prove it, but I don't. They're gone.
Grandma's bread is THAT good.