Cooking as Stress Management
I’m not a wonderful cook. Because the rituals of cooking don’t interest me very much, I haven’t learned how to make the things that I love to eat. I may have to reconsider. I’ve been making a monster lasagna today, and I discovered something. Cooking, all of a sudden, seems to relax me.
I’ve had a strange couple of weeks, involving much more emotional turmoil than I can easily handle. I’ve been feeling fragile, tired, angry, sad. I’m not yet back to myself. The one good thing about it all is that I seem to have gotten some excellent crying done. I’m such a stoic that it tends to build up. I’m good to go for at least another year.
It was a manifold crisis – a miscommunication in my family (well, it was more than that) was the breaking point. But it had been building.
I’ve gotten a bit disheartened about the difficulty of securing a professional position. There aren’t any university jobs. I’m now refocusing on finding a job as a discourse analyst or rhetorical strategist – maybe at a PR firm or something like that. That may be better than pursuing some sort of IT or Project Management position. It would be more targeted to my talents. I don’t have the certifications that would make me an attractive candidate in some of these other fields anyway. And, as a former Jehovah’s Witness, I’m not comfortable with sales (grin). I’m good at it, just not comfortable with it.
Anxiety about my future is compounded by student loan debt and the feeling that I might have wasted my time and money getting the Ph.D. It seems bizarre, but the degree seems to work against me more often than for me.
All of this hit me at once, or perhaps it was a relay, a cascade, a feedback loop. I had the it’s-not-fairs. I was swamped, smashed, splintered into bits.
I can’t, and don’t, stay in that horrible psychological space for long. Life keeps moving on, after all. Fortunately, I also appreciate small comforts and pleasures, and there are all sorts of ways to lick your wounds (so to speak).
Today I discovered that as I was chopping, and mixing, and layering the lasagna, I went into a state of serenity. It was almost hypnotic. Very relaxing. I started to breathe more easily again, like I do when I meditate. I took the pace way down (I tend to move quickly).
The lasagna smells great. I’ll have to remember the cooking method of stress management. I shouldn’t resist it simply because of the “traditional gender role” aspect of the thing.
Today is the five-year anniversary of the day I very nearly died. I can’t help thinking that the pregnancy I lost that day (a ruptured ectopic) might have been a little girl or little boy now. I can’t help mourning the fact that I will never have another baby. Knowing this day was approaching made the family problems worse, as related things tend to do.
Any little comfort helps. And I can’t complain, really. I’ve been surrounded by love and caring as I struggled through this difficult terrain.
And now my little boy comes in to this tiny office of mine and gives me a hug. It’s not such a bad day after all. He’s such a gift of the cosmos, and I am grateful.
6 thoughts on “Cooking as Stress Management”
I´m not good at cooking either. I don´t like it at all to be sincere, but after getting married I found out that cooking is a real alchemy and needs patience to end up good.
Congratulations on your lasagna!!
We lost five pregnancies, each going earlier until there were no more. We have no children. We sometimes mourn. Mostly we celebrate the life we have.
But I wanted to say something about your profession as a discourse analyst or rhetorical strategist. Yes, advertising comes to mind. So does becoming a speechwriter for a politician or an executive. Or even helping a state Board of Education select textbooks. Or negotiations (many types, occurring in law enforcement, business, politics, international politics, etc.). I recommend the old standby book, “What Color is Your Parachute.” There are also some great career choosing books by Barbara Sher.
Meanwhile, cook while you can spare the time. It is the most sensual and honest of all art forms. It appeals to all the senses, it admits that its products are temporary, and it sustains us like no other art can.
Heidi, I am sure you are beat. You had a plan and then took action, those years of schooling, the hard work, and you cannot find a “job”. Stop and look. This website, this is such a source of wisdom, comfort, help and STRENGTH to others. You may not have a conventional job but this could be your calling. You are the smartest person I know. I mean that. You are intelligent, articulate, and you get your point across without being mean, hurtful and condescending. I think your true talent lies here. You should be an author, a self help guru, a teacher and thinker. I would ready any article you wrote, be it magazines, newspaper, blogs. I have known you since were were like 3 or 4, and you have always had this magnatism – charisma – whatever it is. We have not always been best friends, or super close, but you make people feel comfortable around you. You are smart without being scary. Does that make sense? You do not throw around your knowledge and rub it in peoples faces. You should have your own talk show. On top of being so smart, you are pretty too! (no fair!) I am sure some of your recent melancholy has to do with this anniversary today. Your subconscious has probably been thinking of it for a while, leading you down without thinking. When we get these trials we don’t understand at first why or how we will deal with it. But you know they make us stronger, make us see things in a new light, make us who we are now. Loosing my Dad when I was just out of high school, just starting to come to grips with him as an adult, seemed so unfair. He did not get to walk me down the aisle (although I carried his picture with me when I did) he did not get to see my children (but we named the first one after him). I always used to get this bad mood every August, could not put my finger on it, til one day I would write the date and it would hit me, August 25. The day he died. I would forget about the bad mood again, until the following year, when it hit me again. It finally stopped, I don’t remember when, but I still cringe whenever I write that date. It is a milestone for me, the day my life changed, the day I changed. It set into motion a whole new life than the one I had dreamed of as a little girl. I sometimes wonder what I would have been like had he not died then. But then, like you, I thank God for what I have – a child walks by and smiles. Something that simple makes you appreciate life. I believe in Heaven, I believe someday you will see that child, that angel who watches over you – sometimes a life effects you without actually interacting with you. I am glad you are still here my friend, sharing your love, your thoughts, your life, with all of us. Peace today and everyday : ) Keep smiling
ps I am on this friggin low fat low salt no taste anymore “life style change” (we do not say diet) and that lasagna sounds soooooooooo good!
Aren’t hugs the bestest?
The lasagna was totally delicious.
And knowing/remembering that there are such great people in my life – online and offline – makes a huge difference to me. I am awed by the comments. Thank you so much.
I’m so sorry for you losses sweetie. I read about both of them. I remember when I was pregnant with my third child, I began bleeding at about 8 weeks along and was terrified. I had an ultrasound to determine if there was a heartbeat and when I saw that little blip blip I started sobbing. I was so relieved after having been so terrified. I spent 3 weeks on bed rest and my baby girl was born right on time. I needed fertility treatments to conceive the last two times and knew I wouldn’t be attempting another pregnancy…it was a stressful, poignant time. I still mourn that I couldn’t have another baby however I see my daughters and sigh with gratitude for them. Thank you for sharing your stories, your sadness, your life. Peace.