Today I am domestic. It doesn't happen very often and when it does all the females in my family get so excited their cheeks turn all rosy as they exclaim over my creations and how lovely they are. I don't think they realize that baking is something deeply comforting to my wind tossed soul and I only do it when I must refocus my mind on the things that are truly important and not the random feathers that I cannot seems to pull my thoughts away from. Sometimes muffins just fix things. Not the eating of them, but the making. When I really think about this I think the reason why I find baking a last resort when I get all wound up is because even though I might not enjoy the process of making the muffins, i am better because of it. It is sometimes hard and I go into the process knowing I am going to get messy and have a mess to clean up. I go in knowing that I am going to have to be patient and wait for the muffins to cook. I go in knowing that I might not understand everything that the directions say to do but that sometimes the understanding is not as important as the doing. Me-making muffins-reminds me that my life is a lot like the process. I am, right now, going through a time in my life when I am having to have patients, having to deal with some messes and clean them up, and having to step out in faith when I may not completely understand why. But I know that just like this afternoon the end result will be worth the trouble, that in the end I will have muffins and not the nothing that not making the muffins would have given me. Muffins speak volume's.