A few days ago, I made fig jam for the first time in my life. In fact, it was the first time I’d attempted to make any sort of jam.
But no, this isn’t a food post. It just wouldn’t be a 
Not my figs, but a nice one; photo source: pixabay.com
Last week I bought some figs at the supermarket along with several other items and was looking forward to eating those delicious, ripe figs when I got home. The figs were nearly $5, but hey, fresh figs are so worth it!
Upon arriving at home and unpacking the items I bought, at the bottom of the bag I pulled out a severely smashed package of figs with juice leaking all over the place. The person who bagged my stuff threw everything on top of my figs…the one thing that I wanted the most out of everything I bought.
I'll just say...I’ve always been a rigid sort of person, set in my ways and addicted to a schedule. When my son was younger, he had to have his naps, meals, and bedtimes at certain times and if that didn’t happen, I wasn’t happy. Everything always needed to go according to plan for me to feel at ease – or to be completely honest, for me to feel successful and in control of my life.
The old me would have impatiently marched those figs right back to the store and demanded a new package. It would have been an automatic response, in fact. Fix this situation or else! I would have also obnoxiously mentioned how the incident inconvenienced me, in an effort to make them feel incompetent and possibly get the person fired. Yikes.
But the other day, when this happened to me, the thought of returning the figs didn’t even cross my mind. I wasn’t angry. I shrugged and decided that I was going to make fig jam. I even took a trip to the local German market for some Kommiss bread. What has gotten in to me?? :)
My first attempt at fig jam with delicious Kommiss rye bread alongside it. I sort of wish I had some cute glass jars to put it in, but oh well. :)
It’s funny how the strangest, most seemingly unrelated things can make me realize how much I have changed. I made the fig jam on a whim – and that is a huge step for me, like showstopping huge, like
I’m not exactly sure when the transition took place, but I can definitely say I am no longer so high-strung and inflexible. The fig jam is solid, undeniable proof that I am going with the flow. As much as I have always wanted to be in control of my life, I now realize that just isn’t possible; it isn’t what life is about. Sometimes someone else has a different plan for you…