Unconditional Love

I think about it

  like baking.

The kind of thing

you can follow to the letter

  and still end up

    with something entirely your own.

When I was eight

I asked my mother

why cookbooks never say

  how much you’ll get at the end.

She said,

  “Maybe you scooped a little too much.

  Maybe you didn’t scoop enough.

  Everybody’s hands measure different.”

And I thought—

  then why measure at all?

  We both get cookies, right?

  Why go cookie by cookie,

    when you don’t even know

    what they taste like yet?

Unconditional love

  is the cookie.

You

  are the chef.

You underscoop.

  You overscoop.

  You burn one.

  You bless another.

You are human.

  And you’re doing

    a great job.

Think about it—

  you’re basically

    a professional

      at being human.

Every breath,

  a test batch.

Every morning,

  a preheat.

So don’t judge the taste

  before you mix the batter.

Don’t call yourself done

  while you’re still rising.

Let yourself bake.

  Let yourself be warm.

  Let yourself fill the room.

And when the timer dings,

  don’t rush.

Open the door slow.

Take in the smell of yourself—

  sweet,

  imperfect,

  real—

and know that love,

  like cookies,

  was never meant

    to be measured.