Cooking school is immensely rewarding, but now I find myself in the infamous third semester. Infamous because the class selection becomes notably less interesting (accounting and restaurant operations, anyone?) and the work has increased dramatically. I'm taking 18 units and working on top of it all. I'm tired all the time, I have no social life to speak of, and - oh, the irony - it's been weeks since I actually cooked anything at home or in school. Then, just when I'm fried from having spent 41-plus hours in class over the preceeding week, I get to go to work over the weekend.
Work, however, is the only thing that's keep me sane. I enjoy the rush and panic of cooking at catering events. Last night, I made about 60 pizzas on site at a ritzy winery up in Napa - a party for the winery's wine club members. Next week, I'm personally catering a party for a friend's 50th birthday. A couple of weeks ago, I baked off dozens of salmon at yet another event, and every time there are new disasters and new people and new sites and I love it.
What I dislike is the fact that I've not set foot in temple since July, and that since I've been in school, my attendance has dropped to nearly zero. On weekends, I'm working late and simply too tired to do much. I've managed to keep up with the readings for the ministerial studies, but it's an effort to do much more. Particularly with papers and homework from school hanging over me. I feel guilty about being away from temple or sleeping in on Sunday mornings because I didn't get in from work until 2 a.m. and was so tired the following morning I couldn't even imagine getting up early enough to make it to services.
A few days ago, I ran across a book: "And They Shall Be My People: An American Rabbi and His Congregation" by Paul Wilkes. The author details the struggles of a Worcester, Mass. rabbi to maintain his commitment not only to his temple, but to his family and - ultimately - himself.
As I struggle with school - and it is a struggle - I find myself trying to keep myself focused. There are times I become despondent and wonder why I'm putting myself through all this. And then, last night, in Wilkes' book, I read the following line:
...anything worthwhile, anything that requires you to focus, anything that tests you, is a pain in the neck: it's pressure-filled, anxiety-provoking. But it is ultimately exhilarating. Like a great work of art, or literature--something beautiful existed within that person, but had they not concentrated on it, it would never have been produced. If you want satisfaction, you have to put up with the pressure; anything done well requires discipline.I am a weak person and I have not only failed myself at times, but others, as well. For a Jodo Shinshu Buddhist, failure is as much a part of life as is success. And it is only through failure that we see our potential. We are not judged for our failures, but only for our failure to live our lives fully.
Namu amida butsu.
