If you read these journal entries then you’ve probably heard me talk about my transitioning into different pieces of myself after a long arduous holiday of slinging salami. Doesn’t sound very profound when I put it that way I know but jargon can be five and dime at times.

Your body and mind loses some of its habitual control over the course of time when you take it out of its comfort zone. You’re forced to reckon with thoughts you normally have to time to ignore or push away. You don’t deal with as many distractions. Your routines are put away until you finish all of the tasks presented to you.

For the first three years I felt like it was a punishment. Salt on my reckoning. Humility blended with exhaustion. Last year at this time I sat down and my first thought was “You have 10 months until we do this again”.

I had to stop visualizing this as a punishment. I should say have because it still feels this way. My boxes for New Year’s Eve are only half of what they were last year and yet I’m like “phew” instead of “fuck”.

It’s not a punishment. It’s quite beneficial to my growth.

That said, it’s not something I intend on doing

Every

Single

Year

My one coworker Barry helped with boxes this year I usually keep him on sandwiches and prep for assembly but I have my other guy who’s my main back up boxer as I call it. I had Barry this season make only one box over and over again. My number two does the big daddy’s. When he comes in he asks how many boxes and that’s all he needs to know. It’s a good system, muscle memory is key. I did the same with Barry and Grazers this year. He probably made 40 to my 500 boxes this holiday.

“If I had to make boxes everyday I don’t think I’d last two months before I’d have to quit. Barry has worked for me for almost 12 years. He was my km at Southern, my number one prep guy before that. Southern had over 80 prep items it was very prep intensive hell all of my concepts have been. He worked eggs at brunch which was the hardest station. Barry did it with ease. He’s a machine. Plus being my punching bag for a decade. All it took was 40 boxes of charcuterie for him to say in his own words fuck off if you think I can do this full time.

Listen Barry

I get it dude.

I want to ask other charcuterie makers if they deal with this. I also want to ask if they’ve ever made 30 plus boxes in one shift.

Anyhoo

Year five is done. Where I was going with this is I go through a transition after each time. It took two years for me to realize it. Two more for me to see a pattern and now year five I can feel it stewing. It’s not a cocoon anymore I’m floating in its current.

I feel the changes. This time my soul is setting the intention more clearly. There’s no more waking up thinking “well that’s a new thought” in my head it’s now a map of directional flow. I’ve set quite a bar for myself this time. I’m going full intuition mode.

No shaman shit. Or at least not yet. I don’t like the wardrobe.

The stone is set. It’s time to sculpt.

Time to wave the wand

Abracadabra alakazam.

Presto

Not sure where all of that came from

When you begin to recognize the patterns, the signs you flow easier. I used to fight them before I found out they were friends with benefits.

Still. I don’t intend for this to be an annual occurrence. I’d like my diploma soon. Or whatever it is you achieve these days. I have found myself in the past fighting the current when all it’s been doing is navigating my way.

This year I’m tubing down the river rapids be damned.

Cheers.