plural noun: emotions

  1.   a strong feeling deriving from one’s circumstances, mood, or relationships with others

Emotions are triggered by thoughts.

Thoughts are triggered by an external factor.

These external factors can also be linked to memories.

It’s interesting how you can be going about your day, and soon as you inhale a single smell, you can get taken back to a precise time of your life. A time which up until that point had been stored in the mass memory hard drive of your brain, covered in blankets of more new, more fresh memories.

I was baking yesterday, making a biscuit recipe I have eaten since before I was able to remember tastes and smells; making a biscuit my mother taught me how to make, and probably one I’ll pass on myself. I was following the recipe until my hands took over and knew exactly what to do; from the countless times of making them over the years and years prior to this point.

When I was in high school – old enough to have responsibilities, not quite old enough to be hired by anyone other than my parents – I used to do ‘Sunday Baking’. This involved baking enough batches of cookies, and any other baking I was happy to do, for the next weeks school lunches. (At a price of course, because let’s not fool anyone, kids are greedy beings.) I probably did this baking for at least a year, maybe less, maybe more, and I can remember so many arguments, funny memories, and stupid mistakes from doing so. Yesterday these memories came flooding back.


One time I used salt instead of sugar – needless to say we gently placed that batch in the bin.

Almost every time my older brother would steal the equivalent of about 10 cookies worth of cookie dough.

Sometimes being the stroppy teenager I was,  I would scream and yell that I wasn’t doing it any more and that I ‘quit’.

I would then come crawling back, because I needed the allowance.

I would have days of Mum or Dad volunteering to help, the best thing ever especially when I could delegate the job of rolling the dough into balls.

Other times when I would put my music on loud, dance around, happy as can be, I would end up baking enough to feed my greedy brothers for the next week and extras for the freezer.


Yesterday as I was baking, I was overcome with happiness and sadness. These emotions were triggered by the all of these memories. Simply by the smell and taste of the cookie dough. It’s funny how a simple thing can make you think of a time; make you remember so many memories; reminding you to be thankful for everything you have had the privilege of experiencing.

Baking is just so much more than baking. It’s like a memory box within itself.

So is everything else in life.

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