I remember a few, very rare days when I opened the door at home and saw all of these nice brown buns in the kitchen, almost a hundred of them. You can imagine the smell of all of those fresh baked buns, and what kind of big eyes I had that day, one of those very rare days my adoptive mum would bake. After a baking session like that, I knew we would have a visit from my aunt, my mum’s sister, a few days later. I was in first grade, so I was about 7 years old. Of course I got a few buns that day, and they tasted heavenly. I sank my teeth into them and ate lots and lots.
This is my only nice, warm memory of my adoptive mother, whom I rarely saw sober. I didn’t learn to bake from her, that’s for sure, though I learned all too well how it felt like to be beaten by her. I have always been determined to find out of things, so I remember I just told myself one day that I can do this! There was a lot of trial and error, like with so many other things in life, but after a while I got it right. I guess this is very common, whether one is adopted or not.
But I must learn to handle this constant restless feeling inside, so I shall listen more at my Inner Child, listen to what she wants and get better at taking care of her. If she is content then I will be happier and more satisfied too. So therefore I dream about one day having a picnic with a huge, soft blanket in my future garden, with lots of soft cushions and nicely decorated with a big wooden trough full of lots and lots of daisies, put a huge pile of fresh buns on a plate in the center, various kind of breads and of jam, salty butter, cheese, fruit and tons of cider and tea. Listen to the buzzing bees, smell the roses and hang some lanterns in the top of the trees. I can hardly wait! Maybe I’ll pick strawberries too, to have for dessert with vanilla custard or cream. I am forever a gourmet, and I love food from the West and the East alike. Now and then I make Korean food, which I simply love. Korean food takes much more effort to make than Norwegian, so I mostly cook Norwegian food.
Recently I’ve started thinking about making other things, maybe try my hand at art. The act of creating something can mean so much. For one, I’d like to learn how to use a lathe to make wooden bowls, get to know the structure of the wood itself, to shape it, to see and feel the nice, smooth surface when it’s finished, and know that I did this, and be content that this is my achievement.
I guess it comes down to this: I can manage these things, and I will not fail, because I grew up with my adoptive family always getting told that I was a failure. This feeling shaped me so much in life, I think I have become even more stubborn when its comes to things I really want to do or achieve. I’ll be saving up for that lathe, so maybe one day I’ll have a workroom or a garage full of wooden bowls, and they will all be made by me.
Then my heart would swell and I would burst out in happy tears over this luxurious feeling of contentment. For me, the ultimate happiness will be to find the peace which I have missed for so long. So I say to all of you out there: ‘carpe diem’ (seize the day) and ‘alea iacta est’ (the die is cast); find your peace in life. Whatever it is, make sure you use your opportunities, or you may regret it later in life. This girl is surely using hers from now on ‘a dato’ (from this day).