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Cooking is my life. One would say I’m obsessed. I say I am passionate. I choose that word because I owe the act of cooking mad honor. Food and the ability to transform it into something incredible and delicious is what saved me from years of uncertainty and the lack of self-identity and purpose. Life had a funny way of throwing what felt like insurmountable obstacles in my direction. The art of cooking gave me a creative outlet to help me navigate my way out of a dead forest of trauma. Each scrape from the branches healed quicker with the strength of perseverance, inspiration, and mindfulness. I had the tenacity to learn culinary art, self-expression through the food I created, and mindful cooking for mental health. But that wasn’t always the case.
The How and the Why
To cook mindfully is to cook with awareness. Never in a million years did I think that focusing on one tiny ingredient would shift healthy attention toward me. The transference of respect from a gently peeled carrot to a young woman who realized she deserved its nourishment spoke volumes to me. For most of my life, I never saw myself as someone who deserved to feel healthy or revel in being alive. Those limiting beliefs kept me from healing past childhood trauma. Then, when I had the opportunity to switch that mindset, I became anxious.
That anxiety often morphed into depression because I could never see my self-worth. It’s some heavy shit, I know. But, the act of preparing a meal became a beautiful way for me to be present, conscious, and aware instead of stressed or overwhelmed about doubts of worthiness. It became an opportunity for me to learn patience, appreciate the food available to me, be present in the moment, and feel deserving. That is how I fell in love with cooking; it was there for me in more ways than one. And the why?
- It soothed my stress and anxieties while shrinking my world to just the task in front of me.
- I had a sense of control and focus as I prepped, chopped, stirred, tasted, and adjusted seasoning while deciding how to honor that ingredient.
- It allowed me to share the love I put into each dish with those who mattered to me. The warm bodies I chose to sit around my table were the ones who fueled my passion for creating my art.
Mindful cooking gave me a creative outlet.
Anytime I needed to step away from busy tasks and to-do lists, I’d mosey on into the kitchen and cook. That is where I knew I could create something beautiful and delicious in a matter of minutes. It took me years to realize I could make my art through food. Sure, I could’ve busted out the graphite pencils and drawn, but I needed to SEE, HEAR, SMELL, TASTE, and FEEL my medium of choice; I needed to connect with my art in the most intense, physical way. I didn’t have to wait for the paint to dry, and I got to eat what I made. That gave me so much peace. Talk about a no-brainer, right?
I’ll share more about my journey from university to the kitchen in an upcoming blog post. But for now, trust me when I say that creativity has no bounds in your kitchen.
Mindful cooking was my culinary therapist.
Self-care, self-love, self-discovery . . . regardless of how you choose to label it, society takes it to various levels, almost to the point of toxicity. Although cucumber slices over my eyes sound appealing, I get nothing from that unless I get to eat those cucumbers. I don’t want to hear “chin up” or “put a smile on your face.” I want to experience a positive release through gastronomy. Because I’m so passionate about cooking, it only makes sense to find refuge and solace in the frying pan.
I grew up in a home where food was a threat, an apology, and a form of unhealthy comfort. Hence, it was ultra-rewarding as an adult to learn all of the positive ways food and cooking could enhance life and allow me to connect with others. I also discovered that I could finally be at peace with my relationship with food once and for all.
The best thing about it all? Cooking is a meaningful distraction from having a shit day. I especially love the cooking sessions that are longer than two hours. I get to be in complete control . . . 120 minutes of creativity and gratification on a job well-done during that time. No amount of dirty dishes will ever take that away from me.
Mindful cooking helped reduce my stress.
No matter what annoying stressors I had on my “life plate,” I knew I would feel better by spending a little time in the kitchen. A magical mood transformation would always take place with just a few wrist flicks of a whisk. Try saying that tongue twister three times super fast.
Leaving my troubles on the porch and picking up that whisk activated so many beautiful memories of my mother’s cooking. The ability to slow down and open my mind to reminiscence immediately relieved any tension I felt and boosted my mood to the moon.
Cooking should never be nerve-wracking or feel like a chore. The idea is for it to take you away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Rather than say, “Damn, I have to cook something for dinner,” try saying, “I GET to cook tonight.” Once you immerse yourself in cooking, there’s no limit to what you can create. And none of it has to be perfect. If you don’t like following a recipe, don’t. The best part of breaking the rules is forging a new path to do things YOUR way. It’s okay to deviate from those recipes! Give yourself the freedom to make your own decisions and not worry about imperfections.
So, if you’re feeling like cooking isn’t your thing, or you don’t have the time, I ask that you find one Saturday afternoon, step into your kitchen to cook. Connect with the food you make. Connect with who you are, what you want, and how you’d like to get it. You aren’t what you eat. You’re what you cook.
Need a little extra help on practicing mindfulness in the kitchen? Check out my FREE Cooking Mindfully Guide below, where I show you three simple steps to get started.
For more great content on mindful cooking, you can read about it here.
