The Wisdom of the Cutting Board: Letting Go of Perfection and Embracing Life’s Messes, One Chop at a Time
There’s something oddly meditative about chopping vegetables — or at least, there should be. Every slice, every chop should be part of a smooth, rhythmic process that results in neat, even pieces sliding into a bowl or a pot, right? That’s how I imagine it going, but the reality looks more like a chaotic episode of food-based pinball.
My pet peeve? Food falling off the cutting board randomly as I try to chop. No matter how careful I am, no matter how many times I reset the ingredients on the board, somehow, a rebellious carrot chunk or an unruly slice of onion always manages to escape. I find myself holding my breath, gingerly balancing my knife, hoping against hope that this time I’ll keep everything together. Spoiler alert: I never do.
At first, this used to drive me crazy. I’d pause mid-chop, grumbling as I bent down to retrieve the runaway pieces. In my head, I’d replay cooking shows where the pros effortlessly toss their veggies into neat piles. Why couldn’t I manage to keep things contained like that? Why was this simple act of chopping food turning into a daily exercise in futility?
But then, I realized something bigger. Life, like chopping vegetables, is messy. No matter how hard we try to keep everything neat and controlled, chaos is always lurking. And sometimes, that’s okay. Sometimes, the mess is part of the joy.
An Inadvertent Crab Boil Lesson
A few weeks ago, I experienced a mess on a much grander scale. I’m a single father with four little ones — the oldest is 11 — and we had spent the entire day at the park. By the time we got home, it was late, and I hadn’t prepared anything for dinner. After a quick scan of the fridge, I realized the only option was some crab I had.
I casually told the kids I was going to cook crab, and to my surprise, they were reluctant — funny, considering they’d never even tried it before. But I pushed forward, boiling the crab, throwing in corn, potatoes, sausage — the works. When everything was ready, the kids still didn’t want to eat. But as soon as I started dishing out the food, something magical happened.
They dug in. We feasted like kings and queens. My kids, who were so hesitant just moments before, suddenly couldn’t get enough. There was a beautiful, chaotic joy in the air. My daughter even declared that her life had been changed by this crab boil. We laughed, we celebrated, and the crab legs flew as my kids joyfully cracked them open to suck out the meat. It was a beautiful, messy feast of pure exuberance.
Lesson 1: Control is an Illusion
After the meal, I looked around and saw the carnage we’d created: rice, corn, potato, sausage, and crab pieces were scattered everywhere. For a split second, anxiety came over me. Here I was, a single father of four, financially struggling, emotionally exhausted, and standing in the middle of a disaster zone. I felt overwhelmed and out of control. But then, I paused and reminded myself how much I loved the meal we had just shared. I thought about the joy on my kids’ faces, the laughter, the memories we had created. In that moment, I let go of the need for control.
Alan Watts teaches that control is an illusion. No matter how hard we try, life will never go exactly according to plan. Watts once said, “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” In that moment, surrounded by the aftermath of our feast, I realized that life’s messes — just like the vegetables slipping off my cutting board — are not something to fight against. They are something to embrace.
Lesson 2: Letting Go of Perfection
Perfectionism often traps us in frustration. I could have stood there, stressed over the mess, upset that I couldn’t maintain control of the situation. But what’s the point? Watts reminds us that, “Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone.” Sometimes, we just need to let things be. There’s no use chasing perfection in a world where mess is inevitable. The beauty isn’t in a spotless kitchen or an orderly life; it’s in the laughter of your children, the joy of a shared meal, and the memories created in those messy, chaotic moments.
Lesson 3: Embrace the Mess
That night, as I cleaned up after our crab feast, I found myself smiling instead of stressing. The mess, once overwhelming, became a reminder of the love and joy that had filled our home just moments before. Alan Watts often spoke about embracing the messiness of life, and in that moment, I understood what he meant. “The meaning of life is just to be alive,” Watts once said. “It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.” The mess wasn’t a failure; it was a testament to life lived fully.
Lesson 4: Laugh at the Small Things
When my daughter said her life was changed by crab, I couldn’t help but laugh. That moment reminded me not to take life too seriously. Watts once said, “Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun.” We often get caught up in small frustrations, but sometimes the best thing we can do is laugh at the absurdity of it all. Who knew a simple dinner could bring so much joy?
Lesson 5: Practice Patience and Self-Compassion
Being a single father isn’t easy. Balancing the chaos of parenting with the pressures of life often feels like more than I can handle. But that night, surrounded by the mess, I realized the importance of patience and self-compassion. Watts reminds us, “The attitude of faith is to let go, and become open to truth, whatever it might turn out to be.” It’s okay if everything doesn’t go perfectly. It’s okay if life is messy. What matters most is how we respond — with patience, with kindness toward ourselves, and with gratitude for the moments that matter.
Conclusion: Flowing with Life’s Little Frustrations
I never expected to learn so much from chopping vegetables and inadvertently introducing my kids to a crab boil. But life has a way of teaching us lessons in the most unexpected ways. Alan Watts’ philosophy taught me to let go of control, embrace the mess, and flow with life rather than fight against it. Whether it’s vegetables slipping off the cutting board or a messy kitchen after a family feast, life is full of little frustrations and beautiful chaos.
So the next time life throws a mess at you — whether it’s in the kitchen or in the bigger picture — take a deep breath, laugh, and remind yourself that life, like cooking, isn’t meant to be perfectly ordered. It’s meant to be enjoyed — messes and all.
