Needing to Knead

I’ve used that whole “Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day” recipe before, and, you know, it works well.  It consistently turns out yummy and no one can argue that it’s not easy.

 

But sometimes it just doesn’t cut it for me.

 

Sometimes, I find myself needing to knead.

 

There is something therapeutic about sinking my fingers into that mess of dough, pushing and pulling and stretching it into something malleable and elastic and purposeful.  It is a mindless task, to be sure, and one I most often accomplish while gazing out at the mountains out my kitchen window.

 

But it’s important work.  It’s creative work.  It’s honest work.  And it’s predictable work.  A steady formula for near-guaranteed results.

 

And, so, today, as my heart aches a little with both the “not knowing” and the “fear of knowing”…. I knead.

 

Because I needed to.

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3 comments to Needing to Knead

  • I can see how kneading could be therapeutic. I sometimes find cleaning does that for me too, but only sometimes ;). I think we all need that little thing that helps calm us down.

  • I can not stand how it feels when it goes under my nails. It’s like a nails on chalkboard thing…shiver…
    But I think gazing at the mountains while doing sounds like a good way to rest your brain.
    My peeps are praying for you, friend.

  • Brings back a memory of my grandmother baking bread. She didn’t do it every day, but often enough that I can clearly remember the smell of the dough, watching her strong hands and arms kneading, kneading, kneading,the amazement of seeing it double in size just sitting there, watching her “punch” it down, and the old round crockery bowl that she always used, and, of course, the wonderful smell of the bread baking. Pure bliss!

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