The Work of Staying

Where the Hesitation Lived

There was a moment in this process that used to stop me.

Not the mixing.
Not the waiting.
Not even the uncertainty of the bake.

It was the scoring.

I would stand at the counter, lame in hand, and pause.

Overthinking every line.
Questioning every movement.
Telling myself I wasn’t artistic…that this part simply wasn’t for me.

And for a long time, I believed that.

The Quiet Intimidation

It’s easy to look at the work of other bakers and feel something shift inside you.

A hesitation.
A comparison.
A quiet pulling back before you’ve even begun.

I see it often.

People who feel drawn to the process…
who want to try…

but talk themselves out of it before they ever really start.

Not because they can’t learn.

But because somewhere along the way, they’ve decided they can’t.

What I Carried to the Counter

I carried that with me.

The belief that this part would always feel out of reach.
That no matter how many loaves I made, scoring would be the thing that held me back.

And there were moments that felt heavy.

Loaves I threw away.
Tears that came without warning.
Times I stepped away from the counter because it all felt like too much.

Because it was never just about the bread.

It was about what I believed I was capable of.

What the Process Asked of Me

Sourdough has a way of asking something very simple…
but not always easy.

Stay.

Pick up the blade again.
Try again.
Make the cut, even when you’re unsure.

Some days it worked.
Many days it didn’t.

But the invitation never changed.

Come back.
Begin again.

What Changed Over Time

There is something about repetition that softens what once felt impossible.

Not all at once.
Not in a way that announces itself.

But slowly…you begin to notice.

Your hands steady.
Your movements become more certain.
The hesitation loosens its grip.

Not because you became perfect.

But because you became willing.

One Year and Two Months Later

I’m now one year and two months into this journey.

And I can see it clearly.

I am not here because it suddenly became easy.

I am here because I didn’t stop.

The fear that once felt so loud has grown quiet.
The thing that once intimidated me no longer holds the same weight.

Not because I mastered it.

But because I stayed long enough to grow through it.

What This Has Taught Me

This was never just about learning how to score a loaf.

It was about learning not to walk away from something simply because it feels hard.

It was about trusting that growth is happening…
even when it feels slow.
Even when it feels invisible.
Even when it feels like you’re getting it wrong more often than right.

And in a quiet way, it has deepened my faith.

A reminder that we are shaped over time.
That persistence matters.
That what feels difficult today may become familiar tomorrow…

if we are willing to stay.

An Invitation

If you’ve ever found yourself hesitating…
If you’ve ever talked yourself out of trying because someone else seemed further along…

I would gently offer this:

Don’t decide too soon what you’re capable of.

Give yourself time.
Give yourself grace.
Give yourself space to learn.

Because sometimes the place that feels the most intimidating…

becomes the place where the most growth happens.

For me, it was scoring a loaf.

And somewhere along the way, without even realizing it…

I stopped being afraid.

Not because everything changed overnight.

But because I stayed.

Warmly,
Kathy
Art of The Crumb