Chocolate Cake with a Side of Ambition

And finally, a slice of chocolate cake for each of us is positioned in the center of the table, chocolate drizzle steaming along the sides. …

“Leave us,” the king says. “We won’t need anything else.”

There’s something about watching him give orders that has my blood flowing faster in my veins. He has such power. Men are forced to obey him without a word of protest. They would do anything he commanded.

I want that power. …

When the door closes, I shift the plates and bowls in front of me, moving everything to the sides of the table until my path is clear to the chocolate cake. That, I bring forward, until it’s directly in front of me.

I don’t look at the king, but I get the sense that he’s watching me closely. As I take a bite, the soft cake practically melts in my mouth, and I know I made the right choice to start with it while it’s still warm.

When I can’t take the awkwardness any longer, I deign to look up. The king has his own slice of cake in front of him.

“How alike we are,” he says after licking a drop of drizzle from his lips.

“Because we both enjoy chocolate? You can’t get out much if you think that an uncommon trait.”

He takes a drink from one of the goblets that was brought in with the food. “I didn’t mean the chocolate. When I see something I want, I reach for it without hesitation.”

The Shadows Between Us, by Tricia Levenseller

Am I ambitious?

This is a question I have been asking myself lately. A year ago, I would have said yes. I wrote in my journal on June 24, 2020, “I have plenty of ambition–or at least ideas about how I want my life to go. …”

What is ambition?

Merriam-Webster says it is “an ardent desire for rank, fame, or power.” That couldn’t be further from my vision. The Cambridge English Dictionary hits a little closer to home with: “a strong wish to achieve something.” But the New Oxford American Dictionary’s definition is my favorite: “a strong desire to do or achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work.” This last definition reminds me of my favorite quote: “Nothing ever comes to one, that is worth having, except as a result of hard work.” Booker T. Washington.

My dreams have changed so much. From ballerina to doctor to author to literary agent to personal trainer to health coach to farmer to what I’ve lately been telling people I want to be: an herbalist and sustainable homesteader. Here’s what I’ve learned about myself: I need movement. I need creativity. And I need to be useful.

My dreams have narrowed to this:

A cottage. A garden. Some chickens. A couple goats. Bees. Long walks. Yoga.

Writing by hand at a desk in the morning. Hanging laundry on a line. Baking. Hours of reading curled in a cozy nook. Gathering herbs from the forest’s edge.

Is that ambition? Yes, I believe it is. My desire for these things is so strong. And, as ironic as it seems to me, I will certainly have to work hard for them.

My wall calendar for 2021 is illustrated by Sandra Boynton, a children’s author and illustrator who has a delightfully quirky sense of humor. This month’s illustration is a cow draped bug-eyed across a crescent moon, as if caught in the stomach mid-leap. The caption is, “Nothing is ever simple.”

On the other hand, this same calendar proclaims July 12th “Simplicity Day”, with a drawing of a pig napping in a hammock. There is some simplicity out there–we just have to work for it.

Nothing says “simplicity” to me like curling up with a good book and reading the afternoon away. Actually, now I’d call that “luxury”. Tricia Levenseller is exactly what you want to read when you’re craving a rollicking Young Adult fantasy adventure with atmosphere, character development, and a little heat.

I’m not sure I want to eat my cake first, but I do agree that cake is the best part of the meal. Especially this “sweet potato yam cake” from YouTuber Isabel Paige’s recent cookbook, Tiny Pantry, topped with the raw chocolate sauce from the same cookbook. If you need me, I’ll be eating this cake and reading Young Adult fantasy.

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