The Ripening Series Part III: Life is Like a Homemade Granola Bar
BY ASHLEY ADAMMA OCHIAGHA MEEKS - AUGUST 29, 2024
Welcome to The Ripening Series, a collection of blog posts where we explore what it means to come into your own, reaching a perfectly ripe state of self. All month long, we're talking about honing your perspective creatively, professionally, and personally, and what it takes to truly bring it to life. Whether you're looking to expand your creative passions into a business or an entrepreneur considering a big shift, it’s time to grow into your own.
Today, we’re welcoming guest writer Ashley Adamma Ochiagha Meeks, a designer, creative, and owner of Fancy Meeting You Here Co. Every time we spend time with her, we leave feeling energized and inspired, and you’ll quickly see why.
Here’s Ashley with her piece “Life is Like a Homemade Granola Bar”:
As a commercial interior designer, I spend my days curating experiences for others. It’s my job to understand each client’s vision, take stock of their challenges, uncover opportunities, and develop thoughtful design solutions that balance function and aesthetics. I spend a lot of time planning, anticipating, facilitating and coordinating to bring big dreams to life realistically and it’s easy for me to get lost in absurdly long work days that turn into weeks on end.
There came a point last year where I was so entirely overwhelmed that I decided to declare 2024 an offline year. The imposter syndrome was lurking and I was determined to overextend to whatever degree necessary to prove my professional worth and achieve external validation. I poured my heart into my work and in turn, I poured less and less into my Self.
As summer reached full swing, so did business. I was at it again with the relentless work benders — sitting on the living room floor at the coffee table, tap tap tapping at my laptop for what had to be the 16th hour of work that day when I realized I needed a break. Not in a minute, but in that minute.
In search of a way to feel productive and do something with my hands to preoccupy my mind, I decided I’d try making my own homemade granola bars. It felt like a practical use of time, so I allowed myself a slice of leisure.
The first batch turned out perfect. Perfectly imperfect. Like a love letter to myself saying breaks could be beautifully beneficial. Cross sections of dried cranberries and compressed beds of oats. Divinely bound with peanut butter and honey, crumbling edges at delicate touches. Biting into these morsels I tasted self-love and expression.
Batch two: too much peanut butter. Still divine, but too decadent. I learned the power of intention, made mental notes, and made batch three. By batch four, the balance despite being short on spices had me feeling a soft sense of awe at the simplicity.
Not unlike my newfound love for homemade granola bar making, the process of life editing prompted space to play, create, and test. I snapped out of workaholic mode and zoomed out to assess.
What started as a “silly little” passion project six years ago had evolved into a growing business, a living legacy, the design studio of my dreams. The exhaustion. The excitement. The labor of love.
I had always dreamt of what I’d feel like when I reached this stage of my business/career. I thought I would be elated and that things might become easier. Instead, I learned that you have to get stronger and it’s a demanding exercise in self-discipline.
The pendulum swings from side to side seeking equilibrium — fleeting. Balance and boundaries were things I needed to integrate and uphold.
It was on a whim one day in May when I decided to impulsively download Instagram again. It was a peculiar landscape at first and it took effort to not overthink it. Soon, my hour of screen time turned into five. Self-discipline was out the window. Indulgence was in.
As I observed and reengaged online, past the noise, I was unexpectedly enamored by the bits I took for granted. The glimpses of joy and style, life updates and milestones — seeds to foster connection. Not the sole source for community, but an effective supplement if used responsibly.
Sure, isolation can be a superpower in its own right, the focus is like a meditative manifestation for visions of the future, but without connection to Self and Others, what do the things we become actually mean?
If you asked me what granola bars and life have in common, I’d say, “You get out of it what you put into it.”
The experience of making, enjoying, and sharing constructs an organic feedback loop to influence future edits that deepen your connection to Self and Others.
Each experimental batch is an opportunity to test and learn in a low-stakes state of mind. Channeling nourishment, satiety, practicality and a sense of delight — all intuitively.
I’m leaning into the organically occurring sweetness of everyday moments — appreciating the granola bar bites a la dried cranberries.
I’m prioritizing substance over superficial fluff and filler — more is not always more and sometimes what you can make with less is the lesson.
I’m being mindful of my consumption because portions and doses are greater than binges — a bit of parchment paper and twine can lovingly hold the line to avoid overconsumption.
I’m scouting a binding agent like honey but for life — something intentional to improve my ability to keep it all together.
When you think about your life, your career, your relationships (or even your space) — what do you need more of? What needs dialing down? Is there a missing ingredient or slight adjustment that could enhance your existence?
Go forth and enjoy snacks made from love fueling your dreams.