There’s something magical about ghee— especially when you make it yourself.
I made some last night.
Hypnotized by the bubbling butter–I glimpsed a moment from my past.
I do not want to be in MacBeth, I said.
It will be good for you. You’d never do it if I did not make you, she said.
At first– I thought she–Mrs. Gonzales–my 6th grade teacher –was punishing me. I was obsessed with glitter markers and puffy stickers. I mistakenly thought Mrs. Gonzales might appreciate the razzle-dazzle on my homework and quizzes. I now know she was only trying to cultivate confidence–and pull me out of my shell.
My role in MacBeth was tiny. I was really just a prop on the stage–in the background, in every scene.
Like a piece of furniture or a rock, she said.
I was way too nervous at the audition–barely there– teeter-tottering on the edge of fainting–sweating, turning red, mumbling. That’s why Mrs. Gonzales came up with the furniture/rock idea. My twin sister was a servant. She even had a line to read.
If I could go back in time–I’d help my younger self.
Stop–take a breath–have faith.
I’d give myself a pat on the back or a nudge or a tickle– then I’d remember– it’s all a game– things will work out– they always do.