Earlier this year when we got to try deboning a whole chicken in culinary school, my hands were shaking so much you would think I had to perform an actual surgery. Suffice it to say the chicken looked like it was double-dead.
Two weeks ago we had to do it again. Now a number of factors made it not my Saturday morning, so I arrived at class 30 minutes late and more bunched up and agitated than I am normally (waking up at nine in the morning for Saturday class does not a good Friday night make).
Surprisingly, I methodically dissected the chicken with the precision of a serial killer, prompting me to wonder if I have an inner Hannibal Lecter. After that, I calmed down—the chicken becoming the recipient of my frustrations and becoming some sort of a therapy for me. Namaste, all was right in the world.
I am an advocate of doing things with a purpose. If we’ve only got a limited amount of time, it should be a good idea that a significant percentage of that be spent on productive tasks. However, productive is a term I use loosely. Is it creating new consumables, or is it reining ourselves in so we don’t destroy the immediate area? The latter is what I want to expound on today: therapy.
Stress has a way of building up in our lives and, when untreated, can boil over to be a figurative volcano that melts the faces of people around us. Proper dealing of stress is also a productive use of time, I argue, since it allows us to respect the emotional and psychological aspects of our humanity. It is diverting our attention to some other things that aren’t as rigid as the stressors presented to us. It’s not as dramatic as saving the world, but it is, in a way, saving the world from us.
My friend, her therapy is going to the gym and spending time with her friends—a textbook extrovert recharged by being with people she loves. Me, I prefer to watch brainless videos and eat like a starving sailor (hello, Army Navy) after fixing my own meals—an introvert to the highest level. Regardless of the method of unwinding, therapy—within acceptable human behavior—is an integral part of our existence. It is the sharpening of our physical and mental edges when they are a little bit dull and frayed by constant overuse so that we bounce back stronger than before.
After the chicken surgery, I squeezed in a little bit of exercise after class to flush out all the frustrations of the day and came out feeling fresher than a daisy…covered in sweat. Thank you, therapy: I saved the world from Darth Jedd, and I was ready to defend my crown as Mr. Chinatown Cebu.
What’s your therapy?