Nowadays breakfast at home consists of two batches of pancakes his and mine. For three and a half years we live in the same apartment, and our walls have grown with compromise. For two and a half years I had made pancakes, from scratch, the same recipe every time:

• • 1¼ cups of wheat flour
  • 2½ tablespoons of pure cane sugar
  • 1 cup and a splash or two of almond milk
  • 2 teaspoons of baking powder
  • 1 tablespoon of olive oil or vegetable oil
  • a drizzle of maple syrup or honey
  • vanilla extract (eh, eyeball it)

My pancakes were the best homemade pancakes Frank had ever tasted, perfectly tanned and fluffy. But then came the day I was busy in the kitchen whipping up a batch and from the living room couch, he spied the almond milk descending into the mixing bowl. Yes, my loves, the almond milk sparked a miniature war.

Him: “Why are you putting almond milk in them.”

Me: “I always use almond milk!”

Him: “You know I don’t like almond milk!”

Me: “You can’t even taste it. You’re only saying something because you saw the almond milk…you’ve never even had my pancakes without almond milk.”

Him: “But I don’t like almond milk.”

Me: “Just last week they were the best pancakes ever, that’s what you tell everyone.”

Him: “I still don’t want almond milk in my pancakes. Can you make mine without it.”

I huffed with all of the I am not going to let this go that I could muster in my voice, “So now I have to make two batches of pancakes…”

The Great Compromise

Needless to say, there is no place in love for war—especially not over almond milk pancakes. I also do not believe in making food without love in your heart. That leaves room for the consumption of bad energy. At the end of the day, it is true, Frank does not like almond milk. It is just as true that I use almond milk because I rarely drink dairy milk. When I can I cook kosher I do. It is also true that making two separate batches of pancake batter was not going to kill me nor was it truly going to require an extraneous amount of energy. Not to mention, now I can add cinnamon, pumpkin spice, blueberries and or whatever else Frankie does not like to my batch.

Perfect relationships of any sort come with many compromises —and require equal give and take. One of the biggest compromises is letting go of your ego for the good of each other. Love has to be the only pendulum that swings between your hearts. I could never expect to live a happy life as a happy consort if Frank cannot expect me to meet a simple request of slightly tweaking a recipe in his favor that I Initially crafted in my own favor never considering his cares or preferences. Love is equitable.

Instructions for perfectly tanned pancakes:

1. Heat nonstick pan on medium heat.
2. Fry pancakes in a nonstick pan with no oil or butter, flip when upside bubbling begins to slow.

P.S. Photos Coming Soon: 

I never think to take pictures of my pancakes before we consume them, so I will have to make a batch and update you all with the recipe and a nice visual in the very near future!

I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.

—Nelson Mandela

Courage is Love

Starting a new relationship or being in a longterm relationship can be a pretty daunting task. After all, relationships come with a lot of unchartered territory and many unforeseen trials and tribulations. Often times we give up long before our love trains have even left the stations. Sometimes we call in the quits well before the conductor has even yelled: “all aboard.” Truth is, we fear the unknown. We fear opening up our hearts to experiencing something that moves us out of our comfort zone. It is also often true that we fear most of all the ever-looming possibility of disappointment.

There are three constants in life… change, choice, and principles.

—Stephen Covey

Love is far more than an emotion which causes our hormones to go haywire high of oxytocin. Love is the very foundation of life —existence. Love is a principle upon which all other principles—Peace, Truth, Justice, and Freedom—do stand. Love is a pillar upon which humanity is to rise.  Love is law. To act in opposition to the law of love, the principle of love is to act in opposition of time, nature, life, existence, self, all that is or ever will be.

To any and all who stand in opposition of love or against, we who stand on love ask you what indeed it is that you seek to replace love with? We then assert the latter is rhetorical because there is indeed no thing greater than love—thus, it shall stand and does stand on the record, for the record, that nothing inferior to love is to ever be lifted above the law of love.

Love is the first law. Love will be the last law.

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A blog is like a marriage—you can have a really bad relationship or a really good relationship with blogging. To be honest, mid-2018 I was not really sure if I was going to be able to return to blogging. Some part of me felt as though I had nothing left to blog about—I had nothing left to give. Yet, there is something about having a someone who pours into you, encourages you, and will tell you when you are flat out being lazy or you just have not executed the plan that you have had in place for the past year, two or however long. Having that someone changes your perspective. For me, that someone is Frank—and so I am back. I am here.

I am here because I truly love the art of blogging. If you truly love the art of blogging as well, but you are on the fence about expressing the art in your life—I am here for you too. If you do not have a Frank in your ear encouraging you to live your passion, please allow me to be your cheerleader, your coach and your #1 blogging confidant and fan.

It takes two they say to tangle. By law, the latter manifests a perfect imperfection—and in love no thing is wrong because all moves toward a beautiful righteousness. There are days we creak, some we crack, others we go and we go on and on. Heat. No cares for gas and electric bills. The entire house transforms into our playground, something like a speedway—no restrictions, but every round is practice—most end in untamable laughter, involuntary exhales, untranslatable words.

—♥S. Marie