The Case for Pancakes Over Waffles Kind of People

In the wonderful world of breakfast food lies this age-old debate: which is better, pancakes or waffles?

I don't want you to get me wrong. I love them both. Their tastes, their toppings, even their consistencies, and textures. I can't pick a favorite.

It really comes down to what you prefer, the flats or rows of squares.

By examining why I enjoyed pancakes over waffles, I realized it wasn't about them. It was about me.

It was about the type of person I was.

It's silly, really. Most people would probably give you a simple answer and move on, but I really had to ask myself. Why do I prefer one over the other when their differences are shrouded in similarities?

It's perfection.

I think about my experiences making a waffle versus a pancake, and how when it comes time to eat it, I'm frustrated looking at a waffle with squares I will never fill evenly, butter that just won't spread the way I want it to.

Then I realize, it's not about perfection, it's about control.

I think of all the things in my life that I need to control, and I realize that there are few things that I relinquish my hold of knowingly. I'll fly on a plane, or let someone drive me places, but most things are different. I like to be the captain of my own ship.

Once again, though, I realize I'm wrong. It's not about control, it's about knowledge and the knowing that comes with it.

I know that when I get on a place, it's going to fly really high, maybe we hit some turbulence, but then we're going to land, and I'm going to collect my luggage in whatever city we arrived in.

I have no qualms because I know what's going to happen. In fact, I play it out in my head over and over again beforehand. I have conversations before they happen, just to prepare myself for various outcomes.

It's why I'm put in a state of shock when someone unexpectedly starts up a conversation with me. It's why I turn shy when they're excited and I can't help but feel afraid.

It's why I turn down adventures.

It's why I turn away from people, too.

As much as I want to pretend like I know people, their tendencies, and how they'll act in certain circumstances, the truth is I can only guess. That guess may be right fifty percent of the time, but what about the other half? That's about as unpredictable as how long it'll take me to get butter in every square of my morning waffle.

I can have fun. I can break the mold. I do it, sometimes.

But there is always something nagging in the back of my mind. When I'm in unknown territory, nothing can get me to relax. I'm on edge, and I can never tell if it's excitement or anxiety.

It's probably a little bit of both.

What do I do with that?

What do I do when the questions about our world, about my existence, about my life, plague my every waking hour? What do I do when they invade my dreams? What do I do when I can't sleep because not knowing is killing me?

What do I do when I can't smile?

Finally, I've come to realize that knowing and not knowing all boils down to one thing. Do I trust that everything will be okay?

Can I take a risk without caring if I earn the reward? Can I jump without fearing the fall?

As of now, that seems quite impossible. But, little by little, I think I'm figuring it out.

I will never know everything. I shouldn't try, either.

Knowledge is one thing, but answers? I may never find those.

I just needed someone to tell me that was okay.

I never expected that someone to be me.

I have to have faith. Faith is all about trust. Whatever you decide to put your faith into, you can't go halfway.

I learned that, too.

Maybe I'll always be a pancake person, and I'm sure I'll have plenty more sleepless nights.

But I'll be okay. It'll all be okay.

I don't want to waste away because I was afraid.

I'll still fill every square with syrup. That will probably never change. But, if I miss one, then that's okay, too.

I'm here, and that's all that really matters.

I'm here, and life is really good when I'm able to take part in it.