Every six years I inadvertently initiate a major life change.
In 2016, I packed my bags and left for Berlin.
I had no job lined up, no friends waiting for me in the new city, and no real plan. My one-and-a-half years of German studies had collected dust in the far recess of my mind, a forgotten relic of my university days.
But none of those concerns stuck around long enough to deter me from boarding that plane with a one-way ticket in my pocket. There was only one constant thought in the preceding weeks: I had to move. I had to do something. Because I was getting complacent, and that feeling doesn’t sit well with me. I felt as if I’d plateaued, having been cradled in the bosom of comfort for too long. I craved challenge, and it had to be a big one.
Moving to the other side of the world launched me into a variety of situations that tested my abilities. But of course, after some time, you find yourself seeking stability and ease, for too much turbulence is unsustainable.
A fulfilling life is an ongoing negotiation between comfort and discomfort. When you start to lean too much one way, you are propelled to take action to keep a healthy balance.
Before baking, there was writing and editing
After a year of short-term contracts for miscellaneous, low-paying jobs in Berlin, including a week-long stint at an art gallery and being an extra on TV and movie productions, I eventually landed in a comfortable, steady rhythm as a budding writer and editor.
The first few years kept me engaged, as everything was new and I had a lot to learn. As I became more familiar with the work over time, additional responsibilities helped to maintain my engagement.
However, after a while I started to feel the familiar prickle of stagnation begin to seep in, followed by a reluctant sense of curiosity. Reluctant, because I was afraid of the lack of answers to the questions: What else is out there for me? What else am I good at?
In the end, I rationalised that I had nothing to lose, and in 2022 I walked into a bakery and asked for a job. I have zero experience in commercial baking, I told them, but I’m eager to learn. It’s not easy work, came the response, nor is it a job for everyone. You have to really enjoy it.
After making it through two trial shifts, I was onboard.
Why baking?
Firstly, the obvious answer is that I enjoy baking at home. I spend my free time researching and reading up on it. As well as writing about it. Y’know, on this blog.
Secondly, after so many years sat in front of a computer screen, I yearned for manual work. I think I find satisfaction in physically demanding jobs. In my first weeks at the bakery I was reminded of my time during and just after uni when I worked as a bartender. Working with my hands, being on my feet, relying on my body. There’s also the mental challenge within physical jobs that I thrive on, such as pushing through the pain or stepping up when the pressure is high. It’s rewarding. It may not be the same level of intellect needed to write an economic analysis or editorially manage the production of a report, for example, but physical jobs do require similar mental abilities. You need to be switched on. You need to be able to juggle different tasks at once, working quickly while maintaining precision. The difference is that you’re doing all this in cooperation with your body.
Thirdly, I missed the social aspect of work. Even before the two years of remote work, precipitated by the pandemic, writing/editing had always been a predominantly solitary vocation.
Ultimately, the reason why I decided to become a baker was simply to do something different. To pursue another interest, because life would be too boring to just do one thing your whole life. I want to have many different experiences that I can reflect on when I’m old. I don’t want to live with the regret of not having done something, because that would suck.
What is it like to be a baker?
Well, my arms are sore. My legs are sore. My back is—yep, you’ve guessed it—also sore. But my head—my head is happy. So, though my body is in pain, it’s a happy pain. A physical pain that I will gladly bear (and hope gets better) in exchange for how I feel mentally.
Tomorrow will be the start of my fourth week. Some highlights thus far include shaping baguettes for the first time ever, going elbow-deep in a giant container of sourdough starter, chopping parsley for two hours straight, and accidentally grabbing a hot tray with my bare hands.
As a newbie, there’s lots to learn. Developing a sense for the dough is something that takes time and therefore patience. The same recipe that worked many times before could turn out different one day, depending on variables that you can’t immediately pinpoint. Baking keeps you humble.
But what about the early morning starts?
Thankfully, the earliest shift at my workplace starts at 5am, which is comparatively late for a bakery. So the early starts haven’t really been a problem. While the act of getting out of bed is no easy feat, I do enjoy walking to work as the sun slowly rises and the street begins to stir from its slumber. Will probably be a different story in winter, though.
Having said that, it’s been difficult falling asleep when the sun is still up. Might need to invest in opaque curtains or a sleep mask.
Will I ever go back to the desk?
Who knows. I’ve historically been unable to envision how my life will look in [insert number] years. If my current track record is anything to go by, I’ll probably find myself doing something bold and unexpected in another six years. Stay tuned. For now though, I intend to work on my skills in the bakery and learn as much as I can, and share the trials and tribulations of this new venture on the blog.
Until next time,
Jen
P.S. Here’s definitive evidence that I have a long way to go!
Main image source: https://medievalbritain.com/type/medieval-life/occupations/medieval-baker/