Therapy isn’t just about fixing what’s broken — it’s about finding what makes you whole

When there’s chaos all around, what’s the thing that makes you pause?
When the world feels too loud, where does your dust settle?
What makes you feel calm, present, and just a little more you?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.
And oddly enough, my current obsession is Formula 1.

Yes — I know it’s hyped up these days. But the real reason I got interested wasn’t the speed, the glitz, or the million-dollar sponsorships. It started with a Netflix series (F1: The Academy, Women Drivers) that pointed out something I couldn’t unsee: the lack of female drivers in the sport. A male-dominated field with barely any women behind the wheel. That curiosity pulled me in.

But as I dug deeper, it wasn’t just about gender disparity anymore. I was fascinated by the fact that these drivers sit inside a car and race lap after lap for two straight hours — not just for the money, but because the adrenaline, the rush, the speed makes them feel alive. It’s not just a sport for them, it’s like breathing. It’s their oxygen.

And it made me ask myself — what is my oxygen?
When do I feel that rush, that breath of life in the middle of everyday hustle?

For me, it’s cooking my own meals.
I’m not a fancy chef. Half the time, I don’t even remember whether I added salt or not. Some days, I screw up the entire dish because my mind’s a storm of stress and thoughts. And here’s a thing people often say — “You should only cook when you’re calm.”
Well, I disagree.

Because for me, the act of cooking is what brings me calm.
No matter how my day’s been, if I go three days without cooking, I feel lost, disconnected, like I’m floating somewhere without an anchor. But the moment I get back to it — chopping vegetables, hearing spices sizzle, stirring a sauce — I feel better. The chaos outside still exists, but for those minutes, I’m present. I’m here.

And of course, eating the meal is a whole other joy. But it’s not just about the destination — it’s the journey that makes it meaningful. The small, unremarkable, wonderfully ordinary moments that slowly stitch you back to yourself.

These are the recent meals, I cooked from left to right.
Naan with Palak Paneer — served with fresh salad, tangy pickle, and chaas (a refreshing yogurt drink)
Pav Bhaji — a classic, comforting street food from India
Flat Noodles with Spring Rolls — a quick, flavourful meal for those noodle cravings
Khichdi — a simple, wholesome dish known for being easy on the stomach and great for boosting immunity and metabolism

So if you’re reading this right now — ask yourself:
When was the last time you felt truly alive, truly present?

Maybe it’s a 10-hour gaming session.
Maybe it’s getting dressed up for no reason.
Maybe it’s impulsively booking that flight you swore you wouldn’t.
Or sitting in a quiet café, watching people.
Or venting to a friend for two hours straight.

Whatever it is — that’s your therapy. And it matters.
Because it’s about you.

If you feel like it, drop a comment and tell me what yours is. I’d love to hear.