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I used to have a recurring dream in which I’m sitting on my mat awaiting instructions from a panel of my yoga teachers. I’m at an Iyengar yoga assessment, for which I’m completely unprepared. And I am terrified. After what seems like an eternity, they tell me my task: I’m to carve a Thanksgiving turkey right there on my mat using the props in front of me—a plastic fork and knife.
It’s possible that I had some anxiety about cooking holiday dinner.
From My Fondest Memory to the Fear of Failure
I can still smell my mother’s kitchen on Thanksgiving morning. The fragrance of her homemade pies mixed with the aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven created an air of anticipation that could be felt throughout the house. My sister and I would watch the Thanksgiving Day parade on TV in our pajamas and would periodically be called into the kitchen to help my mother stir a pot or lick a bowl. The whole day was spent waiting for the moment we were called to the table. By the time dinner was ready, we were practically giddy as we loaded our plates with my mother’s delicious food in the most anticipated meal of the year.
Now that the torch of cooking the family’s holiday dinner has passed to me, my anticipation has morphed into recurring anxiety about living up to my memory of all those Thanksgivings past. One year, the turkey wasn’t fully cooked, the side dishes were cold, and I sat at the table feeling totally defeated. The pressure to replicate the magic of my childhood memories combined with the fear of failing turns out to be the perfect recipe for a really bad time.
Whether in the kitchen or on the yoga mat, fear is like a big bucket of ice dumped on the spark of adventure. Fear leaves us either too much in our own heads to access our inherent creativity and intuition—or so paralyzed that we convince ourselves we’re not even capable of trying. Fear seduces us into a place of complacency, inviting us to avoid what scares us in favor of dwelling in the comfort of our familiar beliefs. Fear prevents us from making mistakes and gaining the kind of wisdom that only comes from taking risks.
How Yoga Transformed My Holiday Stress
Patanjali’s classic text, the Yoga Sutras, offers several tools to help manage fear. Foremost among them are the principles of practice and detachment. Practice, as outlined in Sutra 1.14, includes three aspects: We must practice for a long time, without break, and in all earnestness. This last one means we have to believe what we’re practicing is actually possible.
Sutras 1.15 and 1.16 describe detachment, which essentially means that our identities are not dependent on our successes or failures. This knowledge leads to freedom and a very real connection to the present moment.
Practicing—continuously showing up in the face of real or potential failure—is trusting that the process is the goal. Ultimately, it’s the intention behind my cooking, the effort I’ve devoted to the meal, and the heart I’ve poured into each dish that will make the meal a success.
Even a botched attempt at cooking Thanksgiving dinner is an opportunity to practice detachment. One year, my apple pie fell apart and I had no backup plan and a table full of guests awaiting dessert. I had to let go of my original plan and quickly adapt to the new situation. So I decided to scoop out the apple filling and spoon it over some vanilla ice cream. No one knew the difference; in fact, it was a huge hit!
It’s often when things have fallen apart that I’ve realized just how much I limited myself with my own expectations. It’s often in those moments that you get to know your own resilience and experience a true connection to the moment. Opening myself up to life often results in something greater than I could have imagined. And some of my best memories are of times when nothing went according to plan—when I was forced to surrender.
How to Make Thanksgiving Less Stressful
Once I remembered that the truth of who I am does not depend on my producing a flawless meal, I felt more at ease. Now I know how to overcome holiday stress because I’ve realized the ways that being in the kitchen cooking dinner is a lot like showing up on the yoga mat.
1. Connect With Your Inner State
Bring your yoga practice into the kitchen by tuning into how you feel as you create your Thanksgiving menu. Anxiety, doubt, and fear can all be felt in the body and are signs that you need to reevaluate your approach. Focus your attention on the process of executing what you can manage to the best of your abilities.
Taking risks in the kitchen is about listening to the motivations that drive your efforts. If I’m considering a challenging recipe, such as an apple pie with pastry made from scratch, and I can feel myself getting excited about the process, I go for it. I know that no matter how it turns out, it will have been worth it because it was my commitment to the adventure, not the result, that inspired me to be daring in the first place.
If, on the other hand, I stare at the recipe with a sense of dread or expectation, or if I’m hoping that the finished product will prove something to myself or to others, then I know that no matter how it turns out, I will not enjoy the fruits of my efforts.
2. Focus on the Journey—Not the Outcome
When you can’t do a challenging pose in yoga, the practice is to focus on and appreciate what you can do. Flailing toward an end result will get you nowhere. And if you somehow arrive at the “end goal” by doing so, you will have missed the point because you weren’t connected to yourself in the process.
It matters how you feel during a yoga practice—not what you look like. Cooking is the same: A dish’s value lies in how it was created.
3. You’re Allowed to Change Your Mind
Let go of your expectation that you need to whip up elaborate food just because it’s Thanksgiving. Really. This mindset can free you from the pitfalls of self-inflicted suffering.
It’s perfectly okay to opt out of a challenging recipe if it doesn’t feel right. I’ve learned over the years to ease up on myself by swapping out difficult, time-consuming recipes for simple, foolproof ones, such as incredible, crispy roasted brussel sprouts with maple syrup and balsamic vinegar. (They take about five minutes to prepare before I pop them in the oven.)
4. Follow Your Intuition
Cooking, like yoga, is about connecting to yourself in the moment. Pose cues such as “stand equally on all four corners of your feet” are useful only when you can feel them in your own body. Similarly, a recipe is only a guideline. Great cooking happens when you listen to your gut, trust your instincts, and make the recipe your own. Follow the instructions as a starting point, but allow yourself to experiment, play, and have fun.
I’m not nervous anymore because now I know how to make Thanksgiving less stressful. No matter how the meal turns out, the people who matter most in my life will celebrate the love and effort I put into our shared experience. What I’ll remember most is the attitude I chose to bring to the kitchen and the wisdom I’ll gain from letting go.
This article has been updated. Originally published October 2, 2013.
