Every holiday, I tend to pack either too much or too little.
At the start of the Easter long weekend, I was overwhelmed by the task of packing for a four-day trip.
To be fair, other things were on my mind, such as the chaotic state of the world and the chaos within my home (i.e., the mess I would be returning to).
I know what you might be thinking…
“Stop your whinging, Jane. What a privilege to be able to pack your bag to go away!”
Indeed, it is! An absolute privilege.
Yet, rather than experiencing gratitude, anxious thoughts swirled through my mind.
“Have I packed enough socks and undies?”
“Do I have enough food to avoid going into the crowded shops?”
“Will the traffic be bad?”
“Will my husband insist on getting hot chips at the Service Station?”
“What books should I take?”
Among these packing questions, one stood out: what books should I take? This question weighed heavily on my mind and here’s why.
When it comes to packing books, I tend to go overboard.
I overestimate how much I can read in a single weekend. I’ll weigh down my backpack with several heavy books, only to find that I don’t end up reading any of them. Ugh.
You’d think more books equal more reading. Wrong.
More books mean more choice. And more choice usually results in decision fatigue and overwhelm.
Determined to change my usual approach this holiday, I told myself it was time to be in reality. I gave myself strict orders: I could only pack what I could realistically read in the time I would be away. That was one book.
Fifteen minutes before I was due to set off, I selected this book: Reasons not to worry – How to be stoic in chaotic times by Brigid Delaney.
I’d purchased this book several years ago, and for whatever reason, I stopped reading it after just 20 pages. I wasn’t ready for it. And when it comes to reading certain books, it’s all about timing. Every book has its time.
Now, I was finally ready to listen to what these Stoic philosophers had to say about living well in times of chaos.
We are living in unstable times. I don’t need to lay out what’s going on. You’ve seen the headlines.
It’s easy to feel powerless and unsure about what to do.
Where should you focus your limited time and energy during chaotic times? How can you focus and study for an exam when the future feels uncertain?
This is why I felt open to wisdom of the ancient Stoics. The Stoics, such as Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, had many great ideas for dealing with the challenges of everyday life and for facing life’s disappointments with grace. This is what I desperately needed!
On my trip, I read most of Reasons not to worry—a breakthrough in itself! Even more powerful, however, were the book’s ideas, which left me feeling calmer.
In this blog, I want to share the most powerful idea I learnt from the Stoics: the control test—a tool that helps you focus on what you can control and let go of what you can’t.
The Stoics believed the secret to happiness and tranquillity was to focus on the things you can control and not worry about the rest. As Bridget Delaney writes in Reasons not to worry:
“The step the Stoics took first, before taking action, was to run everything through a basic test. Called the ‘control test’ or the Dichotomy of Control, the Stoics assessed what they could and could not control about a situation, and focused their attention on areas they could control.”
Delaney provides the following useful image to illustrate the control test.
This image shows that you have full control over three things: 1) your character; 2) your reactions; and 3) how you treat others.
If something relates to one of these three things, it’s within your control and you can take action.
Stoic philosopher Epictetus was a strong proponent of the control test. He believed knowing what you can control and what you can’t was the key to living a tranquil life. In his manual The Art of Living, he lays out what’s within our personal control:
“Within our control are our opinions, aspirations, desires, and the things that repel us. These areas are quite rightly our concern, because they are directly subject to our influence. We always have a choice about the content and character of our inner lives.”
In contrast, what other people think and do is out of our control. Epictetus believed that if we focus on trying to control or change these things, we will torment ourselves and waste our precious time and energy.
Thinking back to the start of the Easter long weekend, I can see that if I had run my anxious thoughts through the control test, I would have felt a lot more relaxed.
Instead of telling myself, “You’re so bad at packing!”, I could have viewed packing as a skill, as something I could work at becoming better at.
For my next trip, I could make a packing list. I could also start packing my bag the night before or even two nights before. Those things are within my control.
It’s also within my control to lower my expectations about packing. Is it really the end of the world if I don’t pack enough socks and undies? Couldn’t I just wash them if I run out?
As for concerns about the traffic being bad, this is out of my control! I can’t control how many cars are on the road or how fast they’re going. However, what I can control is my own driving ability (e.g., sticking strictly to the speed limit and taking regular breaks to recharge).
What about my husband buying overpriced hot chips at the Service Station? It is within my control to encourage him to buy a healthier snack, but ultimately, it’s my husband’s choice. If he wants hot chips, I can’t stop him. But it is within my control not to eat those hot chips.
Since reading Reasons not to worry, I’ve been applying the control test to my life several times a day. When I notice I’m feeling worried, upset, or unhappy about something, I ask myself, “Is this within my control?”
This simple practice has helped me to chill out, conserve my energy, and be less of a control freak. As a result, I feel better, and so does the rest of my family.
As Delaney writes:
“Used well, the control test will change how you use your energy and where you place your care and attention. Your energy should be focused on the first part of the equation: doing the thing well. And you should not direct any energy or worry to things out of your control, such as the outcome or people’s response to what you do, because that is wasted energy. You will only end up with your tranquillity disturbed”.
The control test can help us prepare effectively for tests and exams. You can’t control the way your grades are scaled, the exact questions you’ll be asked on the exam, what your exam timetable will look like, or if you’ll have back-to-back exams. Those things are externals, so the Stoics would say don’t waste your energy worrying about them.
But what you can control is how much you prepare for your exams, how much study you do, how much sleep you get, the strategies you use to learn the information, whether you refer to the syllabus, and how focused you are as you study.
How you prepare is within your control. And the more prepared you are, the better you will do in your exams.
Does the Control Test mean you shouldn’t try to help others in your community or push for environmental, social, or political change?
Not at all.
Delaney writes:
“. . . Stoics were not passive people. Historically they were people of action: political leaders, emperors and soldiers. But they knew that even if they trained hard, acted with integrity, built alliances and put in a lot of effort, they couldn’t control the outcome. They could only control their own character, own actions (and reactions) and how they treated others.”
The control test can help you to stop stressing about things that are out of your control and worrying about what other people think. In the spirit of the Stoics, focus your energy on doing your best work, being the best version of yourself, and treating people with kindness.
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For context, she was a sales manager who used a BlackBerry phone for work (a fancy, expensive device at the time).
Every minute of the interview, her phone pinged with a notification or she received an email alert on her laptop. She’d glance at one of her devices and, with a panicked look, say, “I need to answer this!”
It was an awkward and disjointed conversation, full of stops and starts. I have to admit, her behaviour annoyed me. I soon realised I wasn’t the only person feeling this way.
The sales manager mentioned that she had a 4-year-old daughter who would get upset with her.
She told me that her little girl would beg her to put her phone and computer away. She’d tug at her clothes and cry, “Mummy! Mummy! Put your phone away!”
I appreciated this woman’s honesty, especially when she said to me:
“On the weekend, I’m with my kids but not truly with them… if you know what I mean”.
I knew exactly what she meant.
That was over 10 years ago. Fast forward to today, and we’re all a bit like that sales manager. But things are a lot worse now.
Instead of being overwhelmed and distracted by phone calls and work emails, we’re dealing with powerful Big Tech companies that hijack our time, energy, and attention.
They’ve made us weak-willed and impulsive.
We’re now in a position where distraction is something we crave rather than put up with.
When we have a gap in our schedule or we have to wait in line, what do most of us do? We reach for our phones without even thinking.
Rather than be alone with our thoughts, we desperately try to fill the space with ‘phone snacks’.
When we feel confused, frustrated, or bored, we run to our devices to escape the discomfort and our brains reward us for doing so.
Every time we switch tasks, our brain releases a little shot of dopamine.
It’s these quick hits of dopamine that train us to crave checking our phones and, ultimately, multitasking.
In an environment of unrestricted tech use, my brain is like a wild monkey. It wants to run around, make a mess, and explore many different things all at once.
I can relate to Dr Nancy Colier when she writes in The Power of Off, the mind on technology is like a “wild, locked-up monkey that’s drunk two bottles of wine chased by a shot of Scotch and been stung by a whole swarm of bees”.
When I start multitasking (and it doesn’t take much to get me going), I feel amped up, frenzied, and agitated. My energy feels a little crazy.
Research shows that as we quickly switch from one task to another, we rapidly deplete our finite mental resources and put our brains under a lot of stress.
But it gets worse . . .
When we multitask, we also experience what researcher Sophie Leroy calls Attention Residue.
In a research paper called Why is it so hard to do my work? Leroy explains Attention Residue as the extent to which your attention is only partially focused on the current activity because a prior activity (the task you rapidly switched from) is still holding part of your attention.
Why does this matter?
Leroy’s research found that when you experience Attention Residue, your performance suffers.
It’s as if you’ve taken a big dollop of the previous task and put a thick slather of it all over the current task, thereby making a mess of the present moment.
The good news is we can stop messing with our precious moments by focusing on one task at a time.
In his excellent book Time Surfing, Zen Monk Paul Loomans encourages us to focus on one task at a time, with minimal interruptions, and do it until completion. He says if we do this, we will experience a sense of calm and pleasure in everything we do.
Even tasks we consider boring or mundane (e.g., peeling potatoes or cleaning your room) can be transformed into artistry when you are truly present.
Part of the problem is that we’re often in a rush to get to the next thing on our to-do lists. But as Loomans warns, “Rushing is like gulping down time. You’re not living for now but for later”.
To counter this frenetic urge to race ahead, Loomans suggests that we accept whatever we are doing as “the activity of the moment”. In other words, we view the task before us as the most important thing we can be doing in this moment and we forget the rest.
It’s a simple but powerful mental shift.
I’ve noticed that when I accept whatever I am doing as the thing I should be doing right now, I no longer feel the urge to work with such intense energy. I feel calmer. An added bonus is that when I slow down, I make fewer mistakes and tend to do a better job.
At the heart of it, doing one thing at a time means showing up to life and being present, to the good stuff but also the painful, boring bits.
If you find yourself reaching for your phone more than you’d like, ask yourself this question:
“Am I reaching for my phone to escape the present moment?”
For me, the answer is usually yes. I’m trying to avoid the discomfort of life. But life tends to be more meaningful and enjoyable when I stay fully present to what’s happening around me, with my phone out of sight.
Technology will dominate your life, and multitasking will be an issue unless you have strategies to protect your time, energy, and attention.
What motivates me to set limits on my tech use (specifically my phone) is a desire to feel calm, grounded, and focused. I also want to live a life of substance, not one in which I am constantly chasing instant gratification.
Here are the strategies that I am currently practising to help me decrease multitasking and cultivate calm:
When I’m with someone or working on an important task, I put my phone away and keep it out of sight. I want to be fully present with the person I’m with or the task at hand. Why?
Because attention is how we show others they matter.
When someone is checking their phone in a social situation, it communicates “I’m more interested in what’s happening on this screen than I am in you”.
When I think back to the interview with the sales manager, it would have been a better experience for everyone if she had put her phone on silent, left it in her bag, and closed her laptop.
There would have been fewer times saying “What was the question again?” and “Sorry, I can’t remember what we were talking about”.
We probably would have felt more connected, too.
Note: Even when my phone isn’t within arm’s reach, I can still catch myself rapidly switching between web browsers and tasks. However, I’ve noticed that my multitasking significantly increases when my phone is within arm’s reach.
You’ve probably heard of intermittent fasting, where you have a window for eating (e.g., 10am to 6pm). But have you heard of phone fasting?
Phone fasting is a period during the day when your phone is not within reach.
As TJ Power states in The Dose Effect:
“A phone fast enables your dopamine to replenish and creates the opportunity for connection and restoration.”
So, as an experiment, for 30 days, I phone fasted from 8pm until 12noon the next day (allowing myself to make urgent calls if needed). I discovered that this made a big difference to my ability to focus. I also experienced a sense of calm like never before.
At the start of the day, I create a ‘Wish List’ (another wonderful concept from Paul Looman’s Time Surfing book).
I write down all the things I’d like to do in the day, but there’s no pressure to do all of them. I then put the list away, and depending on how I feel, I listen to my intuition and trust myself to choose the right activity to begin with.
Before I start a work session, I also declare what I intend to do (e.g., “Chop vegetables for curry” or “Write for 45 minutes”). If possible, I also like to share what I plan to do with another human (I use an online coworking community called Cave Day to do this).
After every 25-30 minutes of work, I aim to take a short movement break (usually 2-5 minutes in duration). This helps me to stay energised and alert. But most importantly, it gives me a brain boost.
What I wish I had understood when I was younger is that you can’t focus for hours on end. It’s not humanly possible because your brain has a finite amount of attentional resources. This means as you focus on doing a task, your attentional resources get depleted (and if you multitask, you accelerate the depletion even more!).
However, research shows you can boost your attentional resources by taking short breaks or, as Paul Loomans likes to call them, ‘breathers’.
A ‘breather’ is any activity that allows you to get out of your head and grounded in your body.
Some of my favourite breather activities include going for a short walk, chopping vegetables, or riding my bike to pick up a package from the post office. These activities allow my brain and thoughts to roam free.
Although many of us default to checking our phones during breaks, resist the urge. The problem with using your phone on a break is that you’re still in your head. This means you’re churning through your attentional resources instead of replenishing them.
The sense of calm and pleasure I experience when I stop multitasking and focus on doing one thing at a time is second to none.
But in the age of the Attention Economy, with so many companies trying to hijack our attention, it takes discipline and practice to stay focused.
Without strategies in place to protect your focus, the default will be multitasking and its friends – chaos, stress, and fatigue.
We may not have a 4-year-old child tugging on our clothes when we’re using our phones. But perhaps we should all listen to the wisdom of that little girl and put our phones away.
I experienced this firsthand when I was an exchange student living abroad. When I was 16, I travelled to the south of Italy to live in a small village called Spinazzola.
This had been my dream, and my parents forked out over $2,000 to make it come true (thanks, Mum and Dad!).,
I wanted to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I set off with an ambitious goal to come back fluent in Italian.
Before I left for Italy, several people had told me that I would pick up the language “just like that!”. I was told that I’d be fluent in no time.
I took their words as gospel truth.
So I became concerned when, after just a few days in Italy, I wasn’t speaking like the locals. I thought, “Why am I not fluent in Italian by now? What’s going on? Is something wrong with me?”
Panic and worry set in. I became stuck in an anxiety loop. Thoughts rolled through my head, such as:
“Am I learning the language fast enough?”
“Am I going to come back knowing enough?”
“How will I compare to the other Australian exchange students? What if my Italian sucks?”
This anxiety spilled over into almost every amazing experience I found myself in: a trip to the local pizzeria with my new friends from school, family dinners, and day trips with other exchange students.
To counteract my fears, I doubled down on my study, carrying a mini pocket Italian dictionary with me everywhere I went (this was well before mobile phones and Google Translate existed).
About a month into my student exchange experience, out of the blue, a young man snatched the pocket dictionary out of my hands.
This man was called Gianluca. He was my host sister’s 18-year-old cousin who had travelled with his parents from Milan to spend Christmas with my host family.
Gianluca was a character. He had wild, voluminous curly hair, a cheeky smile, and a sense of style.
Gianluca was also a slightly arrogant man. He would say whatever was on his mind, seemingly without caring if he upset or offended others.
For example, one of my first interactions with Gianluca was when I sat down on a stool, thereby exposing my white socks. He gasped loudly and said in Italian:
“Jane Christine, white socks with black shoes is a fashion crime! No, No, No!”
I took his words very seriously and have never repeated this fashion faux pas.
But it was the moment when Gianluca snatched the dictionary out of my hands that I remember more than anything else. This moment had a profound impact on the rest of my exchange experience, and I am deeply grateful to him for that.
It was late in the evening. A group of us had been talking and playing Italian card games. Remember, these were simpler times (there were very few mobile phones back in those days and no social media).
I was struggling to follow the conversation in Italian, so I picked up my dictionary to look up a word, but Gianluca stopped me. He grabbed hold of the dictionary and said:
“Put the dictionary down. You don’t need this! Just be here in this moment!”
Gianluca was trying to tell me to relax. To stop hiding behind my dictionary. To stop trying so hard to learn Italian.
He was right. Sometimes, when you try too hard and are too fixated on achieving a future goal, it can get in the way of actually doing what you need to do (in my case, learning Italian).
Oliver Burkeman writes about this in his book Meditations for Mortals. He argues that there are benefits in not trying so hard. He writes:
“The less I’m trying to get something out of an experience, the more I find I can get into it, and the more I can be present for other people involved.”
Those first few weeks in Italy, I had been trying too hard to master the language and get the most out of my student exchange experience. I was trying to frantically get to a place where I could tick the ‘Fluent in Italian’ box.
I can now see clearly that by trying so hard to learn Italian, I was sacrificing my enjoyment in the present moment. I was also undermining my ability to learn Italian.
You’ve probably heard the phrase “La Dolce Vita”. This directly translates to “The Sweet Life”.
But what it means is a relaxed, easy-going approach to life. An approach where you enjoy the simple things: a hearty, simple meal shared with your family, a reviving nap in the middle of the day, and an evening stroll (‘passeggiatta’) down the main street with friends.
Whenever I picked up my dictionary, which was frequently during those first few weeks in Italy, I embodied the polar opposite of “La Dolce Vita”. I transformed a potentially fun, rich moment into an anxiety-fuelled study session.
I also took myself out of the present moment. And effective learning (and living) is all about being present.
Gianluca’s words – “Put the dictionary down!” – hit home. That evening, I put my pocket dictionary away and gave up on trying to master Italian in a day. I took the pressure off myself and relaxed into the experience.
Soon after, I asked my host mother Rosa if I could join a local exercise class. I knew that movement always made me feel better. It relaxed me. I was so happy when Mamma Rosa agreed.
At this class, I’d slip on some special socks over my shoes and slide from side to side on a slippery mat (a slide board).
I took this crazy exercise class with a bunch of middle-aged Italian women wearing spandex and leg warmers (it was Winter). Occasionally, someone would lose control on their slide board and fall to the ground.
For 60 minutes, I was able to get out of my head and get grounded in my body. This exercise class, as strange as it was, made all the difference. It relieved my anxiety and fears straightaway. It calmed my mind and made me feel like I was doing okay.
Ironically, once I felt calmer and less pressured to ‘learn Italian’, I started to pick things up. Learning the language became easier and easier. It didn’t happen in an instant. But it was happening. Slowly but surely, my language skills improved.
When I came back to Australia, I hadn’t mastered Italian (can you ever really master anything?), but I could hold a solid conversation with my nonna in Australia.
The whole student exchange experience fundamentally changed me. I learnt so much more than just Italian.
I learnt the power of a good nap after lunch (strictly enforced by my host mother), the importance of connection and community, and that if you’re having pasta, you must mop up the last bit of sauce with some bread (this Italian tradition is called ‘scarpetta’).
But I also learned not to try so hard. Instead of rushing to get to a specific destination, it’s okay to just explore, learn, and grow at your own pace.
“Mappa ferr Spinazzola-Barletta” (Used in Image 1) by Arbalete is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0
Over the years, I’ve experimented with a range of weird and wonderful stress-busting activities, including yoga, pilates, meditation classes, floatation tanks, massages, acupuncture, and sound healings (to name a few).
I’ll be the first to admit that cash-grabbing wellness gurus and advertisers have sucked me in.
In our capitalist culture, we’re sold this idea that in order to relax, we need to spend big dollars. But I now realise that the best relaxation experiences are cheap or free.
I’ve created rituals around cooking that help me stay calm, grounded, and focused throughout the day.
These days, cooking is my number one way to relax. My kitchen is my happy place, and it can be your happy place, too.
Perhaps this sounds a bit strange. But hear me out.
I haven’t always found cooking to be relaxing or particularly enjoyable.
Being half Italian, I used to get involved with the occasional food tradition, such as tomato sauce-making day. But it wasn’t like I grew up with the delicious smells of homecooked food wafting through the house.
My teenage years and early twenties were filled with processed junk foods: a dizzying array of Hungry Jacks combos, greasy fish and chips, and takeaway meat lovers pizzas.
Cooking was a relaxation practice I stumbled upon much later in life.
Since upping my kitchen game and trading the expensive wellness activities for a sharp knife, solid chopping board, and fresh vegetables, my savings and confidence have grown.
To emerge from the kitchen in a calm and tranquil state, a few conditions have to be in place:
1. You cannot feel rushed
2. Your kitchen counter must be clean and clutter-free
3. You need a sharp knife to chop with
4. Your phone must be out of sight (like most things in life, it’s best not to multitask)
If these conditions are met, cooking can feel like a meditation or an empowering yoga class.
I’m not the only person who feels this way.
In the book ‘Uncook Yourself: A Ratbag’s Rules for Life’, Nat’s What I Reckon shares how he cooks his way through tough times. He writes:
“I reckon getting in the kitchen and un-cooking yourself from the tough moments in your head every now and then is a way better self-help routine than throwing five grand at some short-lived back pat from a cash grabbing blowhard at a self-help seminar just to tell you you’re not doing life right.”
One reason is you need to focus your mind.
When chopping with a sharp knife, you must pay attention to what you’re doing. If you get distracted, and I have (many times), you might pay the price with a cut to the finger.
Chopping is also a repetitive activity that delivers an immediate outcome. One minute, the bok choy is on the chopping board in full form; the next, it has been chopped and is ready for tonight’s stir-fry.
Cooking also requires you to slow down.
When you’re online, you tend to jump around in a frenzy. But when you’re cooking, you have to follow a recipe step-by-step. This requires focus. This focus helps to clear your mind.
Cooking also gives you a sense of control, power, and agency. As food journalist Michael Pollan says:
“Eating out breeds helplessness, dependence and ignorance, and eventually, it undermines any sense of responsibility.”
When you cook, you’re in control of the process (not some big corporate fast food company). Plus, compared to that commodified wellness experience, cooking is super cheap (all it costs is the price of a few ingredients).
It also produces a nourishing meal at the end. That meal will give you energy, help regulate your mood, and keep you calm and steady.
In the book ‘The Food Mood Connection’, Uma Naidoo argues that to decrease anxiety, you should pay attention to what you’re eating. She writes:
“A crucial part of battling anxiety is making sure your diet is full of foods that are calming and free of foods that put you on edge.”
Fast foods and highly processed foods. These foods (e.g., greasy hot chips and baked goods) are problematic because they lack fibre and the fragile micronutrients and phytochemicals needed for good brain health.
Naidoo recommends increasing your fibre intake by consuming more plants and whole foods, such as beans, brown rice, baked potatoes with the skin on, broccoli, pears, apples, and oats.
A few years ago, I delivered a talk called ‘Rediscovering the Ancient Art of Thrift’ at a local library. In my presentation, I shared the thrifty practice of avoiding eating out and cooking meals at home.
At this point in the presentation, an elderly gentleman put up his hand and said:
“But vegetables are expensive. Why not just get McDonald’s? It’s cheap, and there’s no cleaning up at the end.”
I immediately thought of a friend who, at the time, ate only McDonald’s (for breakfast, lunch, and dinner). His housemates had confided in me that his feet had developed a pungent odour.
Although my diet was far from perfect, I was concerned. If my friend kept going down this path, I could see him heading for serious trouble.
Fast forward a year: How was my friend doing?
He was not well.
He had put on a significant amount of weight and seemed depressed, rarely leaving his room except to get his next McDonald’s meal (back in those days, there was no Uber Eats).
I explained to this elderly gentleman in the library workshop:
“Maybe you’ll save a bit of time and money in the short term [buying the fast food], but eating processed food will cost you down the track. It will cost you in medical bills and poor health. Your quality of life will suffer.”
He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced.
Until you’ve cut out the processed junk food, allowed a couple of weeks for your tastebuds to readjust, and developed the habit of home cooking, it’s easy to be sceptical. After all, we live in a world that values convenience. Opening an app, pressing a button, and having dinner delivered to your door in less than 20 minutes has some definite appeal.
But every time you order Uber Eats, you miss out on a valuable opportunity to practice slowing down and calming your mind. You also undermine your cooking skills.
If you haven’t developed the habit of cooking or cooking makes you feel anxious, there are a few simple things you can do to cultivate calm and confidence in the kitchen:
Cooking is a messy process. While I may start with a clean kitchen bench, it quickly becomes a mess. That’s how the process goes (I try to clean as I go).
It’s also okay to mess up a meal. Not every meal is going to be an absolute winner. In ‘The Four Hour Chef’, Tim Ferris encourages the reader to see meals that don’t work out as cheap cooking classes. Learn the lesson and move on.
When you think of cooking as one activity, it can feel overwhelming. I divide the cooking process into two stages:
1) Preparing the mise en place: chopping vegetables, taking out utensils, etc, and
2) Pulling it all together: cooking the dish.
In the morning, I take out all the ingredients for a dish so they are ready to go when I need to take a break from my work. I chop earlier in the day and cook the dish in the afternoon/early evening.
If I’m overwhelmed by the idea of chopping vegetables, I break it down to chopping just one vegetable at a time. I’ll say to myself:
“Just chop the capsicum. That’s all you need to do.”
It’s not fun chopping with a knife with a dull blade. A sharp knife combined with a lovely chopping board makes all the difference.
Learning basic chopping skills is a game changer. With the proper technique and a sharp knife, there’s no need to worry about cutting yourself. You can chop with ease.
I took a chopping skills course with the online cooking school Rouxbe, but you can find YouTube videos teaching you good chopping techniques.
You’re not running a restaurant. You don’t have to rush to get meals out to hungry customers. Take your time and enjoy the process of chopping each vegetable.
If approached with the right mindset, cooking can deliver a sense of calm and ground you in the present moment. You also get to experience the mental and physical benefits of a nourishing home-cooked meal. The bonus extra is saving a bit of money.
So, what are you waiting for? Pull out some ingredients and start cooking today.
