There are no rules for hand pies.

Food, Life

I just had the most decadent hand pie. I know the way I describe it to you won’t do it justice because it was that good, but I’ll try for your sake.

Image Credit: Chatelaine

It had the butteriest, flakiest crust that melted in your mouth and actually made you stop to savor it before taking another bite. That crust is powerful. Inside was a mixed-berry filling with some lemon added to it for extra tartness—something I always appreciate when it comes to fruit fillings. Lemon adds an extra brightness you didn’t know you needed.

This hand pie was breakfast for me. After a very long and exhausting (but good) day yesterday followed by a very much-needed, restful sleep and late start today, that hand pie looked better than anything on the cover of a magazine. Though it’s long gone now, I’m enjoying its memory as my hot coffee brews behind me, the first of the day (it’s 12:36 pm).

Here’s the thing: hand pies don’t fall into any particular category. Apple pie? Dessert, sure. Pizza pie? Dinner, primarily. Hand pies? Whenever the mood strikes. These bad boys can be whatever they want to be—a sweet and savory breakfast-in-a-pinch, a midday pick-me-up, a post-dinner indulgence—and there’s beauty in that.

Something very important I’ve learned recently is that we’re often governed by a strict set of rules that we give ourselves. In reality, they don’t exist. We’re like big, walking hand pies trying to act like dessert pies and that’s just not the case.

Rules help us feel secure and structured; their very purpose is to prevent chaos. But with that comes the consequence of losing freedom. So what if you haven’t finished that dry, boring book yet? You don’t have to in order to start a new one. You can walk over to that bookshelf, pick up something that looks interesting, and start to read it. Hell, you can read three pages, pick up another, and start that one too.

I’m someone who gives myself a lot of rules. And to clarify, this isn’t some case of sitting myself down and telling myself the things I can or cannot do and where and when and how. These rules make themselves in our brains. It’s a combination of societal norms and pressures and our own desire to feel safe and valid. Just like we have certain foods we eat at certain times and on certain occasions, such is how we move through the rest of our lives.

The rules I’m currently working through have a lot to do with my schedules—when I’m supposed to be working or resting or enjoying leisure. I’m also working on the rules I have when it comes to social interaction and relationships—how much I’m supposed to be at home versus out, who gets my time and attention, and how and when I commit myself to things.

It’s all about recognizing what rules we’ve given ourselves and if they’re actually inhibiting us—preventing us from enjoying more, relaxing more, accomplishing more. You can start a new book before finishing another, have your first coffee and start your day at 12:30pm, and eat a hand pie for breakfast. The rules don’t apply.

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