Endri. You know, I thought that cooking meals would satisfy my need to create something.
Tzipora. It doesn’t?
Endri. I’ve been trying to figure why it hasn’t. I mean, it has some components of creation: creating something from several different things, having an audience enjoy it, what else? Is that all?
Tzipora. Doesn’t it take some imagination to cook?
Endri. I think that’s what’s missing. I have no imagination in my cooking.
Tzipora. What do you mean? You’re cooking is great.
Endri. But I’m just following directions. I could almost say that I’m afraid to do something off from what the recipe instructs. If I don’t have rosemary, I have to go to the market and get some. I can’t improvise really. It’s a little unsettling. I’ve been reevaluating how I go about life. I think it goes further than following recipes with mindless precision. My life is on cruise control. Any deviation from the straight line I’ve led myself to believe in following and I reveal how truly paralyzed I am.
Tzipora. When you’re cooking and following the recipe, how certain are you that whatever you cook will come out right?
Endri. I guess it depends, but most of the time I suffer from the anxiety that it won’t be any good.
Tzipora. I wonder if it’s similar to when mothers experience anxiety about their baby before their born.
Endri. I guess it would be easier if I cooked all by myself. I wouldn’t care about the outcome of what I cooked, but when I cook for others, I find myself asking how they liked the meal.
Tzipora. It makes sense. You’re cooking for them.
Renata. Then who am I living for because it doesn’t feel like myself.
End. Cooking for Life