The Value That Cannot Be Quantified
When we talk about value, it's often in the context of finance and career. We're driven to optimize our time for maximum profit, efficiency reigning supreme. But lately I've found an unexpected area of my life challenging this mindset: cooking.
I've always been a time-conscious individual. For me, every minute matters, every hour holds potential. My time is reserved for nurturing relationships and creating memories - heart-to-heart chats with my son or rejuvenating bike rides with friends. These cherished moments can't manifest unless I'm highly selective about what I permit on my schedule.
Cooking, by its very nature, contradicts my time-efficiency mantra. The process is time-consuming, intricate, and meticulous. If we were to analyze it strictly in terms of financial output, the hourly rate of cooking is glaringly low - often less than $20 per hour, even when I'm operating at peak efficiency.
The paradigm of value clearly isn't always about economic worth or productivity. Sometimes it's about those intangible, immeasurable aspects that enrich our lives in a different, more profound way. And for me, cooking has evolved into one of these aspects.
On my best days, preparing a meal is a celebration of love and care. It's more than just a duty or a chore; it's a heartwarming gesture, a demonstration of affection for the ones I love.
To be clear, I’m not a professional, and I fall very short. I burn stuff, I overcook and undercook, and I add the wrong ingredients. But the flavors I carefully curate, the dishes I labor to create - they are all expressions of my love, a testament to my devotion. It feels much more aligned to me than just clicking the order button on DoorDash. I think it’s just because I worked at it.
And, cooking invites meaningful conversations, opens the door to shared experiences, and brings us together in a surprisingly intimate way. The kitchen transforms into a spot for conversation, a place where the chaos of the world falls away, and it's just us - my people and our shared memories. It's a silent reassurance that despite the hustle and bustle, they are your priority.
So yes, cooking doesn’t save me money. Or time. But doing it once or twice a week adds immeasurable value to my life in ways that can't be quantified. It challenges me to rethink the worth of my time, compelling me to appreciate the more subtle nuances of life that often go unnoticed. I may not be whipping up a five-star gourmet meal, but the love, warmth, and joy that fills my kitchen every time I pick up the spatula is, for me, a surprisingly valuable way to spend my time.