“Fortunately (psycho) analysis is not the only way
to resolve inner conflicts.
Life itself still remains a very effective therapist.”
Karen Horney M.D.
It is a sunny, warm Monday morning. I have finished my chores, and I am making a stew. I do not care if it is too hot for stew I need to make this turkey stew.
Whenever I am a little stressed for whatever reason, real, or imagined the act of chopping vegetables one at a time very slowly helps me to relax.
I love the act of slicing, the rhythm of the knife, and the sound of it hitting the cutting board making me concentrate on only the task at hand.
I slice my home grown leeks thinly, I drop them into the turkey broth I had saved from cooking a turkey on Friday. I chop the garlic, the potatoes, the carrots, and peppers. I chop the broccoli, the cauliflower, and the big pieces of turkey.
I chop huge amounts of vegetables; it is not about the contents of the soup but the stifling of the contents of my overflowing mind. This is like therapy.
I choose my spices carefully as to enjoy the aromas drifting into my stressful mind, soothing as it flows. I choose ginger, and curry this should work.
I stir and watch the steam billow into the air. I am reminded of why I am making this stew on this very warm day.
The engine light on my Jeep flashing, and then staying on, halfway home in the dark from an incredible auction day. The questions, and worry about what it is about, and how much it will cost to fix?
My sweet Bossy cow not doing well, she is old and we always knew this day would come.
My Hero worrying me yesterday, by doing a job that needed to be done but one I have never handled very well. (More on that tomorrow), I can still feel the emotions, and how hard it was trying to suppress my fear, as to not upset him.
I could go on, and on but right now I just want to concentrate on my stew. Stir, stir.