Have you followed a recipe lately? You know the drill: Google a dish, only to find yourself scrolling through an epic tale of how Prince Wallace of Wales adored gnocchi and served it every Sunday after the fox hunt in 1345. Frustrating, right? Dish up the goods already!

After an absolutely stellar debut gnocchi triumph (you should have seen me roll), it got me reflecting on what is lost when we rush to the end, skipping over the preamble—the slow, meandering introduction to things to come. Last week was frantic—I was in doing mode as an antidote to the ambiguity of not knowing what the plan is. This week, I’ve connected with the inner “recipe writer.” I’ve found a slower, deliberate pace—the calm before the creative storm to come. I’ve spent my time in the Gnocchi Preamble.

Now, the Gnocchi Preamble isn’t about preparation. That’s important too. But this comes before that. It’s a process for something deeper—subconscious and emotional. The Gnocchi Preamble is the headspace where your mind wanders, turning thoughts around and circling ideas in observation. It leads to a seed, a semblance of an idea that hits you in the shower—the thing that sparks the sudden realisation that you simply must create something. Importantly, you can’t be both in the recipe and the preamble. The preamble requires headspace that we’re seldom afforded in our daily lives of busy work.

My time in the Gnocchi Preamble this week has been unproductive, but fruitful. I’ve tested multiple layouts to shift my room from an office feel to a studio vibe. I paddled my kayak— it was there that I pondered a future target audience. I fiddled with my music and photography equipment long enough to decide I have all I need to be a YouTube influencer. I’ve set up many Christmas decorations and, most importantly (did I mention?), had a pretty damn fine gnocchi-making session.

It’s an argument for slowness as a precursor to to creativity, but the reality is, it’s the holiday season. My parents have come to Barbados to visit, and Liz (AKA, wife) is now on holiday. It’s December, and the world is closing down. But now that I have outlined this argument, you’re officially off the hook for any time-off guilt you might be experiencing. You can really bathe in the slowness of things. Dive into the pointless preamble of the recipes, without a care about feeding yourself at a reasonable hour.

It’s the gnocchi preamble, and we’re here for it.

I sincerely hope you get absolutely nothing done.

Warwick

PS. If slowing down is something you want to read about:

• Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport is great. Its premise is about stepping away from your devices, but it quickly moves into how time should be spent if not online.
• How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell is a dense philosophy book disguised as self-help. It’s full of interesting ideas about how we should spend our time, but I do warn that it’s not light reading.

I used the word “gnocchi” 11 times in this short piece. If that isn’t the start of my influencing career, I don’t know what is. If you do make gnocchi, do let me know—I’d love to see a photo.