Lately, I have been finding great solace in watching silent cooking videos from A Country Life vlog, which features a mature woman in Azerbaijan that I am currently living vicariously through. She does what is hard, day in and out, but in the most subtle feminine way. There are no words in the videos, but her strength speaks loudly. Never a complaint or a grimace, just a pure loving hardness that makes me want to run into her bosom headfirst for a hearty hug coupled with a soft pat on the back. My desire is not only to learn from her how to properly prepare a lamb’s head for consumption but also how to become a better person, an integrated woman.
It is not like I am just beginning from nothing. I have had to adopt incredible strength through life choices and circumstances, but sadly to say, I also collected a respectable amount of bitterness and martyrdom along the way. I’ve done what is difficult without a doubt but have also made things more challenging than they needed to be by lugging around some chips on my shoulder just in case people doubted how strong I could be.
Days turn into years while hope turns to nihilism because when we continue to believe someone owes us something, we will remain to wait for it, sometimes indefinitely. Whether it is waiting for validation, happiness, or love. But to our regret, life doesn’t pause for us to figure out that there is nothing to wait for. We have watched too many movies and have created delusional expectations of ourselves and others. Primarily by trying to emulate characters whose true endings we are never made privy to. If we saw the end game, we might think differently.
It is just another day on their land. The camera pans in with footage of a bloke riding a horse toting behind it a cart, pulling up abruptly on the road with a smile, to dispense a cigarette to the man of the house. Just as quickly as he appeared, he whips the horse and trots off under the cloud-adorned sky like a genie receding back into his bottle. The man (of the house) lights up the cigarette and takes what appears to be a hard-earned drag. He walks back towards the cabin to finish chopping wood, but not before stoking the fire to prepare his woman some afternoon tea out of dried purple flowers and apples from their garden. The setting swings to the woman carefully and expertly preparing the lamb’s head; he pauses what he is doing to promptly assist her in lifting a heavy pot, even though we all know she can do it herself. They are a team, but we can sense who will depart this earth first and where much of the strength lies without any words exchanged. Oddly enough, we need both characters; otherwise, we would not see each of their true significance or the inexplicable beauty of the natural exchange between them.
As a strong person, my biggest weakness is my strong persona, and I am afraid I am not the only one. Not understanding how to rely on others, show vulnerability, or sit in the passenger seat, all while dreaming of it, is an absolute travesty. It also creates misplaced resentment that could have been altogether avoided. One of my positive attributes, however, is my lifelong quest for self-improvement, and on this journey, I have found that real strength lies in being honest with myself when things aren’t working. Being independent is a benefit at times, but as they say, there is a time and place for everything. Just because you can do something doesn’t always mean that you must. When we do not allow ourselves to receive because we have learned to do things on our own, we cheat others out of the opportunity to give, dangerously eliminating reciprocity and natural balance. It is only through mutual benefit that we can know true partnership. Accepting from another does not weaken our position. Denying ourselves this opportunity is the epitome of self-sacrifice, an attribute which would be better reserved for charity, not relationships.
She climbs on the roof of their shed to water some flowerpots while her husband weaves twigs and wraps wires to secure a homemade gate. She hurriedly comes down to help him hold a wood post as he digs the hole to further secure it. She is tough but doesn’t attempt to overpower her man or make him feel small. We know she can do it all, but she chooses not to. She is the mother we wish we all had. And he is the man that nurtures the garden for her softness to flourish, knowing that her strength could destroy him. They have finished their work for the day. She serves his plate first while he pours their drinks. They eat their meal together in silence with no need for words.
After a few hours of interpreting nuance and binge-watching the woman from Azerbaijan cook every type of animal, make homemade butter and yogurt, and drink every kind of flower, I realized what I had come there to learn.
To put it bluntly, when others don’t feel needed, we suffer the same fate; we become replaceable because people get tired of getting rejected by in-your-face self-sufficiency. This behavior creates an ongoing experience where we are forced to be strong alone rather than with others, which too may be strong; they just don’t make it their only redeeming quality. Why would we choose this when we can build a life with another? Do we need to make someone less capable just because we know we have similar capabilities, or can we keep a few secrets for ourselves?
After it is all said and done, being vulnerable enough to soften for another is the chance we must take in this life. We will most definitely be hurt and rejected, but the more we learn to trust ourselves, the less we fear others. I do not think it is so much that we exhibit this self-defeating behavior because we feel unworthy of being loved and supported like we have been led to believe. But more so, we fear putting down our sword and shield on the battlefield of love – because it is terrifying.
