𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐈 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭

Some of you know that when I am home, I make my own salads for lunch. And not the dump-a-bag-of-lettuce-and-drench-it-in-ranch kind. I start from scratch—olive oil, vinegar, fresh garlic, a little sugar—then layer in vegetables and meat until it feels like a masterpiece. Since it’s made from scratch, no two are exactly alike.

Today, something was off.

The texture was good, the crunch was there, but the flavor did not hit right. After a few bites, I figured it out: I forgot the garlic. And the sugar. The base was missing. The part that sets the whole thing up.

Then it hit me again.

While making my salad, I had been on the phone with a friend. It was a deep, intense conversation—the kind that pulls you in and stirs your thoughts. And in the middle of that meaningful conversation, I skipped the most essential part of my routine: crushing the garlic.

Some days, we can multitask just fine. Today wasn’t one of them.

It made me wonder: how often do we miss the base layer in our work or relationships because we’re distracted—even by something important? How often do we forget the garlic?