Spoiler alert, if you’ve made it here, you’ve chosen either blue pill or un-passionate spell from Tiramisu: You’ve got no passion! [Part 1].
I went straight for the sponge fingers, prepared the coffee-Tia Maria mix, and experimented with different “timings.” No stopwatch; I may lack passion, but I’ve got a good ear and a sense of pace, thanks to my guitar skills.
So, that sacred “1-2-3” turned into an “about” 2-3 seconds, but it didn’t work for me or the passionate owner. So, I conducted a series of tests with shorter times, allowing the sponge fingers to rest, checking for leaks, and breaking some in half to inspect them. Time was ticking, but that was my approach.
1-2-3: The longest wait, left as proof of the worst.
1-2-: Kind of okay… maybe right.
1-2: Kind of okay… maybe right.
1: Nah, too hard, too dry.
I decided to prepare another Tiramisu, dipping the sponge fingers for just around “1-2” or “1-2 plus” during their bath. It had to be around there. The Tiramisu was placed in the fridge, and service commenced.
The owner was never around during service, but his duty manager was. When he arrived, I told him we had Tiramisu. His response was a perplexed one-second stare. No words.
Orders came, and there was no liquor pooling at the bottom of the tray.
The next day, the Tiramisu didn’t look as fresh, but it was still okay. It was only the last portion that was ruined.
A week later, the owner paid a visit, having heard the news about the “un-passionate”. That day, he happened to be in a surprisingly good mood.
Approaching me, he inquired, “How did you make it?”
My answer : “I gave it another shot. It was 1-2”
A profound silence ensued as he absorbed my response, and then, without saying a word, he left. I returned to my fun.
But here’s the part I didn’t share with him, but I’m sharing with you:
How did I do it? Well, I’ve come to understand my limitations and continue to discover new ones; learning is an ongoing journey.
How? I pay meticulous attention to information that equips me to tackle challenges head-on. Blanket criticism fuels my frustration and they both fuel my determination.
How? I’ve learned to channel my anger and frustration into a laser-like focus, nourishing my motivation and fueling my creativity (more on that in a forthcoming post). I see them as catalysts, not roadblocks.
How? I’ve tried, failed, pondered, and relentlessly sought answers. A cherished memory from my mother kept and still keeps echoing in my mind:
“All you need is to want it and believe. You know you can.”
How, you ask? Honestly, you tell me. But one thing’s certain: it involves more than just accepting baseless criticism from someone who doesn’t genuinely care about you. The rest? Well, it’s simply irrelevant, often nothing more than an obstacle.
It’s essential to realise that, after sincere attempts, you might discover certain things are beyond your reach. Apologies to NASA, but I won’t be driving to Mars anytime soon.
Working for or with individuals whose feedback consists of mere blame and accusations like “It’s your fault” or “You lack passion” can be a valuable lesson in appreciating the truly supportive people in your life. But it can also be akin to inhaling tar; your body simply can’t endure it.
Above all, it’s crucial to recognize that failing and persevering can indeed be a lifesaver, paying attention to those who care about you, a path to stay happy while you learn.
Last spoiler alert of the day, the quote below is from a Masterpiece The Great Dictator by Chaplin, if you haven’t wached it, please do!
“[…] don’t give yourselves to brutes – men who despise you – enslave you.”
Sir Charles Spencer Chaplin KBE
If you’re curious about how the that blue pill?, click here.