Jordan Hunsecker
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Stories (5)
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Walking away
I wanted to create something successful. Success doesnāt look or feel like they portray it on tv or in the movies. My mind was always full of to do lists and not the kind that say laundry and groceries but the kind that keep you hyperventilating in the middle of the night. I was making sure dinner was on your table and there was nothing on mine. I created so much lack in my own family to people please everyone elses. People pleasing is a learned form of validation. Itās a common human reaction. But what happens when the people stop being please? I was so tired I didnāt even know what tired or exhausted was any more. The feeling of impending doom followed me for years. This voice telling me I forgot to do something or call someone back. Entrepreneurship is a gift and a curse that you must have a motive. Itās a drive like nothing else. A rush and a thrill from working. A great spark that creates and fuels dreams. Sometimes money is a motivator, sometimes managing is a motivator. Managing, communicating, developing were part of my everyday routine just like the business textbooks tell you. What they donāt tell you about is how easy that becomes because itās only 1/10th of the job. Food Service is brutal. Grinding is a terminology I found to fit the description best. Grinding in the culinary world implies your turning things to dust. And thatās just what I was doing. You have to have grit to grind, day in and day out. Thereās usually a motive behind your grit, getting you up at 5 am to start your work day. A nudge to get the soup on before anyone else is up. When the motive is removed you loose the spark. Work became my only reason. As a chef your main hidden goal is validation. People pleasing if you will. The gratitude and thankfulness was only temporary until the next challenge. Cooking is where I received my highest compliments, it became a source of my self esteem, but all outside myself. Until one day, someone said what if I couldnāt cook, what would I do? I didnāt know the answer.
By Jordan Hunsecker 3 years ago in Journal
The golden lock
It had been raining for many night falls over the hills and mountains of Dillybaldron. It was hard to see past the thick mist and damp trees, as the wind howled, the rain was so cold and hard that it hurt when it hit your face and skin. Deep in the heart of The Trees, (a mysterious Forrest on the map)even the dryest land the earth had gotten wet. Flood rains had filled the cracks of the stone streets and flooded passages. It was a 100 year storm according to the townsmen. It was the season of witches after all. This time on the calendar was known as tree changing (written in Dillybaldron). The sun āļø rose earlier each day and night was darker in the evening. The tree changing was a mysterious time with folklore and magic. They say you can tell the Witches are around when the tree colors begin to change. Orange is their favorite color. But this was just āfolkloreā, mother would say, āGeorgie, believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see. There are so many tales out here in the world!ā One in particular may be of interest to you, itās about a disappearance. My kidnapping.
By Jordan Hunsecker 3 years ago in Fiction
