While I was measuring and mixing the ingredients, I had some thoughts that I'll try to pull together here in a coherent way.
This week I'd been making a tad more effort than usual to connect with other people. I've been at my job for ten weeks, but the staff and the physical space are so big that I haven't interacted with most of the librarians more than a couple times per person. I have some ideas in my head of who I'd like to be friends with - the cataloger I ran into one morning as I was getting off the train, walked into work with and then spent half an hour at her cubicle talking, the new reference librarian who started just after me and who suggested we meet on a regular basis to share what we've each learned about how things work, the instruction librarian I often run into in the bathroom - and thankfully the friend-of-a-friend who works in another department has already started to feel like a friend. But still, I've had so little interaction with any of these people, and I miss my old work buddy so much!
I'm pretty shy, and I don't push myself to do anything too out of character, because I'll just feel self-conscious doing it, but I try to push myself just a little bit. So one day when I saw that woman in the bathroom, instead of just saying hi, I commented on how we always seem to be there at the same time. She said she tries to go to the water fountain as an excuse to get up and walk, even though sometimes what she really wants is a brownie. I said I'd been drinking less tea since I started this job, because it's such a long walk to fill up the kettle. It was a brief conversation, but I was glad I'd started it. Later that day I walked by the reference desk, and the friendly new librarian was there and wasn't helping any patrons, so I stopped by to say hi. Go me, being outgoing!
That night I went contradancing and saw a friend-of-friends from college, which was great though disorienting since I hadn't seen her in so long, and the next day on the train I ran into one of my favorite classmates from my second master's program, and that was great, too. But that amount of interacting with people I don't know well wore me out!
I'm not always sure if I'm really an introvert, as I actually like spending a lot of time around other people. I think I'm a combination, but tilted a bit towards introvert. In particular, interactions that I don't feel totally secure about, like starting a conversation with someone new, can feel emotionally tiring. And when I get that way, cooking can really help.
Cooking feels to me like shifting my focus from the world around me and the people in it to focus on my small kitchen and my actions in it. It occurred to me this morning (and I've had this thought before, but I always forget it after) that it's meditative. I'm re-reading a little primer I own about meditation, and last night I read that meditation is the practice of doing one thing at a time. When the author says "doing one thing," he includes thinking as an act. So if I'm thinking about work while running, I'm doing two things. And if I'm listening to music, thinking about friends, and running (as I did after the cornbread came out of the oven), I'm doing three things. But when I'm cooking, I'm pretty much only cooking. I think this is why I like to cook multiple things at once, so that the process takes up all my attention. I'm such an overthinker, and it is calming to be solely focused on my actions for an hour or so.
The author of this book uses a lot of phrases that I don't quite understand to describe the effects of meditation (like restructuring your personality). But the bottom line, he says, is it's like coming home. Which is the perfect thing to do after being a little over-stimulated, even from a bunch of really enjoyable conversations with acquaintances.
I also made these oatmeal thumbprint cookies.


