Kitchen Porn – Stop and Smell the Roses Edition

Ruth Reichl recently posted a New York Times article about her Sunday morning routine. After I read the piece, I tweeted “If only my every day was a little more like @RuthReichl’s Sunday.”

When I’m having a bad day I’ll often say I want my life to look and feel exactly the way her Sundays actually are. But I reserve enjoying the special, little things and/or “smelling the roses” for weekends, days off, weekends at the beach and special occasions. I look forward to cappuccino muffins, hot, steaming cups of coffee, Eartha Kitt playing in the background and the crinkle of a Sunday New York Times at my friend Cecelia’s house.

Sorry - Don't know where I got this one. Probs The Kitchn.

But I rarely, if ever, take the time to make myself a real, healthy breakfast and some Cafe Bustello espresso in the stovetop coffee maker on a Tuesday morning. Or play Eartha Kitt while I’m cooking dinner on a Thursday. Or get myself a market muffin, a French press full of coffee and read the paper on a Sunday in my own apartment.

Why? Two reasons, I think. One is, like a sandwich, it’s always better when someone else sets the scene or makes the breakfast/dinner. I loved the ritual of riding the metro to Cecelia’s house, buying the muffins, greeting her pup at the door and sitting down to coffee she made and reading the paper she laid out. It was special…it is special!

Sunday at Cecelia's.

The other reason is that we (read: me) let life make us tired…lazy even. I’ve had a long day, I’ve worked out…I’m tired. I don’t want to make dinner. I want someone else to make dinner.  It seems like a pain to find new, loungy/jazzy music, buy some flowers for the coffee table and set the scene. In reality, it takes an iota of effort to do these things but still, I don’t.

via Elements of Style (Look at all those knives!!!)

Simply put: I’ve gotta stop putting up silly barriers to genuinely enjoying moments and stopping to smell the proverbial roses. I (we) deserve a beautiful life, whatever that might look like. It’s worth the time, the little bit of extra energy and maybe even the extra couple dollars. I (we) forget that making things a little extra special is an investment in ourselves (and often those around us). And we’re worth it. Our mental and emotional health is worth it.

I’m going to work on doing little things differently – playing the music, buying the flowers, reading the paper or anything else that strikes my fancy. I get up at 5:45am. I have time to make breakfast. I have time to channel my inner Ruth Reichl and make life a little more beautiful and special.