For years I had watched my mum do it. You may be wondering what ‘it’ is, yea she always took off the hot pot of soup with her bare hands. As a child at the time i thought it was heroic. Whenever i saw anyone use a cloth to bring down the pot of soup, i will ridicule them in my mind.
Finally the day came that it was my turn. I could not wait to be like mum, so when i was offered a cloth to help protect my tiny hands from the heat of the steel pot i declined. With enthusiasm, I reached for the handle of the pot and my eyes turned red as the heat from it ran to my head. oh how it hurt me! i quickly opted for the cloth and from that time on stuck with the cloth.
One day, mum left the soup in my care and i got carried away with other things, as I approached the kitchen I realized the soup had over cooked and was pouring into the fire. In my confusion I rushed for the pot and turned off the fire. it took a while for me to realize I had just dropped the pot with my bare hands and it did not peel my skin or hurt me like the first day,
These days, I watch as the young ones around me admire me when i drop my pot of soup with my hands without even thinking about it. It comes naturally. what changed really? the pot is definitely as hot as the first day I tried it.
Truth is we limit ourselves in many ways. It really doesn’t have to be easy the first time, the second or ever. Someone once told me ‘life gives you what you demand, not what you deserve’. I now dare a lot of hot pot situations and challenges i meet daily, i dont hide behind a cloth to keep me from the heat. The many ‘what ifs’ still show up. But i go right ahead anyway. for instance, I thought this piece will not make sense, but am writing it and making it public anyway.lol. There is no stopping me! welcome on board.