They Can’t Mingle

There are things that don’t fit, match, or combine. Although anything seems possible these days, this perspective remains well-known and carefully considered.

Yesterday, for example, I decided to make, not apple crumble, but strawberry crumble. It just so happened that I had more strawberries and wanted to use them before they expired. I used the usual familiar ingredients but added something extra—something overflowing from its jar— cocoa powder. I added a generous amount to strawberries and baked the crumble. The result was unique—but not in the yummy way. The sweet crumble turned out bitter and sour. Hopefully, today, it will taste more edible.

Perhaps you like the cocoa–strawberry combination. Actually, I enjoy each ingredient separately, but together I found the mix awful. If only the jar had a bit more space, I wouldn’t have undertaken this experiment. But at least there’s a postive outcome—I’m writing this post.

So, as my crumble experiment proved, some things can’t just be added, mixed, or combined. You can’t, for example, blend truth with lies or belief and atheism. If you do, the outcome will be so vague, so meaningless.

Don’t you see the difference between these qualities—or rather the gap that separates them? But, though they can’t mingle, they can still define each other.

Truth is the quality of being true, while lies are things that are not true. See? They can’t be mixed— just like oil and water. Yet, clever as we are, we create something in between and call it ‘a white lie.’ Ironically, instead of using grey—the blend of two colours—we use white, a solid colour that indicates its separate entity, even though it’s attached to ‘lie.’

Therefore, while we may cross the line between certain qualities, we can never erase it.

With hope and peace,

Nahla