Life is like a recipe. I learned from watching my mother that cooking is a little science, a lot of art, and a good amount of experimentation. Even if we follow a recipe exactly, most often it does not turn out as we hoped it would. The more we attempt to learn the recipe, the more comfortable we become with it. As we learn what works and what does not work, the opportunity for changes and substitutions becomes apparent. That is if we chose to do so.

A recipe necessitates that we learn as we go. As we learn from our mistakes, we improve ourselves and become more confident. We, then, cannot only follow a recipe, but we can switch things up in hopes of a better result. It could be as simple as taking a basic recipe, adjust it slightly and create something completely new. Yet, there are some recipes that have been handed down to us, which we cannot control but we are faced with the choice of following it or not. This act of following a recipe in life is the thread that connects me to people and places, to my family and history, and to my religion and traditions. This is life – a bit science, a lot of art and a large measure of experimentation.

Ingredients:

·      5.2 liters of Mexican born blood

·      1 bundle of illegal border crossing

·      3785 milliliters of troubled family dynamic

·      2 fistfuls of machismo

·      6 teaspoons of historical nostalgia

·      1 dash of emotional vulnerability

·      ½ cup of Catholicism