So when you are at least five years old you learn one of worlds most loaded question ever spoken, Why? It was always, why, reason was because we are filled with wonderment and sincerely wanted to know why. This is why I think I took everything apart in my house at one point. Funny thing I never really figured out why some things worked just got yelled at a lot.
So why am I bringing this up you ask....
Today I was in the Business Technologies office at school waiting for one of the Chefs to show up so we could have a meeting about next term and classes. I was wearing my chef uniform from head to toe and I was a little dirty considering I just came from my 7:30am Cooking 2 Lab class. To be honest I was a little tired. I wasn't alone though, there was a nice younger girl sitting directly across from me, looking like she was waiting to meet with someone also. All was quiet when she asked me bluntly, "Why did you choose to do Culinary? And is it hard?" Wow, I am sorry I thought I was on some hidden camera show or something? I also thought this was carefully staged question by one of my chef instructors to see if I could articulate the correct answer. Upon review, I just realized by my posture and the unmistaken look of sleep deprivation that this was real. My first reaction was to just laugh nervously and to choose my words wisely. I told her that is a loaded question, one that could take all afternoon to answer.
I told her that I chose Culinary Arts because from a young age I have been fascinated by the thought of food. The thought of taking innocent ingredients and putting them together and make some amazing is awesome. I also told her that it shouldn't be fun, with the long hours, the yelling, the stress, and the sweaty mess I seem to become everyday at work. However, for some reason it is fun, but fun in a way that borderlines on insanity. When you look at it from the out sided it seems the direct opposite of fun, it looks like hard work. It is hard work but gratifying and its a high that can't be found in a the bottom of a bottle or in pill. I think she was satisfied with the answer. Then I asked her if she was thinking about Culinary and she replied, "No, I am in nursing." I got up as I was leaving for my meeting and I said, "Next time I would love to ask you the same question."
As I headed home and got out on my bicycle to knock down some miles I kept thinking about that question. The funny thing is that the question of why never filled me with doubt like it would normally in past life endeavors.
Life isn't a question of why, but more like why not?