Over the past two weeks, we’ve discussed gratitude and gifts. Partially because I love alliteration, and partially because it’s been on my mind, this week we will explore grief (and the comfort that comes with it!).
The holidays are meant to be a time of brightness, of celebration, and gathering together. But I have often found that along with the good cheer, there’s some grief for me, too. This time of year can bring up sadness for all kinds of reasons: seasonal depression, the mad rush to buy more crap that none of us need while nature is going through a massive species extinction and our winter snows are missing, the extreme violence and oppression happening in countries around the world, looking back on the year with disappointment for uncompleted goals or mistakes, longing for beloved people and pets that have passed, or feeling a lost sense of self as we enter the dark days. Whether it’s because of personal or global reasons, sometimes the moments meant for merrymaking can actually send us spiraling into despair.
Usually when I’m feeling sad, I crave something sweet. Sweet things give us a domaine rush, activating our pleasure and reward system and counteracting (at least briefly) feelings of upset. Perhaps this is why we collectively bake as many sweet things as possible in winter. Cookies and cakes, cinnamon rolls and pies. These desserts are often associated with special people or times in our lives, whether it is a shortbread recipe passed down from a favorite relative or a gingerbread delivery from your childhood bestie.
Food is often linked to emotion because our stomachs are actually like a second brain! The human gut has 500 million neurons, made up of twenty different kinds of nerve cells. There appears to be a connection between gut bacteria and mood. As a result, you can help relieve the symptoms of depression, anxiety, and stress through your stomach, or you can carry these emotions there.
It’s no wonder that we sometimes eat our feelings.
I recently had the opposite experience, where eating actually made me feel gloomy. I hadn’t eaten enough all day, and scarfed down a huge plate of stir fry and rice for dinner. I had barely put my fork down when I suddenly felt so very sad. It was as if the food had filled all the holes where I normally kept my grief hidden away, and now the woe had no where to go. I felt the sadness bubbling up. I started to cry. I reached for a slice of chocolate cake with raspberry sauce and texted a friend.
“Crying is so good for us,” she replied. Tears can actually nourish us. The eyes are an avascular tissue, meaning they lack blood vessels, so they rely on automatic basal tears to deliver oxygen to the cornea. These kinds of tears happen continuously without us having to think about it. But emotional crying is a phenomenon that is unique to humans, and these tears have high concentrations of hormones, neuropeptides, and neurotransmitters—the waste products of emotional responses! As a result, crying flushes stress hormones and other toxins out of our systems, while also releasing oxytocin and endorphins into the brain. All of this helps make our immune system stronger and more resilient, a bonus during cold and flu season.
My go to comfort food has long been chocolate cake with raspberries and whip cream. There is something about this dessert that feels decadent and special, like life can’t be all bad if this perfect combo exists.
As I wept and ate my cake, I remembered a moment a few years ago when I was sitting on my kitchen floor eating chocolate cake for dinner and crying. (Apparently this is a theme in my life). It was raining outside. Loud claps of thunder and flashes of lightening shot across the sky. I’m not sure why I was sitting on the floor except that sometimes that’s all you can do in moments of intense grief. But despite being so utterly sad, the whole experience tasted divine. I felt oddly alive, alone in my heartbreak, with the perfect combo of chocolate and raspberries and cream.
Back from my reverie, I wipe my face. I’ve eaten my cake. The grief has lessened, washed by my tears, and I’m left with a sense of contentment. Despite the sorrows that can arise during this season, there’s always the delicious delight of our favorite comfort foods to bring us back to ourselves.
You will find this week’s writing prompt at the bottom of this email.
If you want to dive deeper with your food writing, consider signing up for my 21 Day Food Writing Journey, which launches in January 2025.
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Here is this week’s writing prompt.
Try to find a quiet place where you can focus for 20 minutes. The point of this exercise is to write freely, without judgement, and see what comes out of your brain. You can answer each prompt question or start with the one that is most interesting and see where it takes you. Follow your mind, be present with the emotions coming up, and have fun. See if you can keep writing for the full 15 minutes. It might sound like an intimidating amount of time, but I promise it will end up flying by. Just keep going!
What is your favorite comfort food? Why do you associate it with contentment, coziness or well-being? What memories and people are associated with this dish?
Is it something your mom or dad or grandma used to make when you were little, or an indulgence you only have a few times a year?
What are you feeling grief about during this holiday season? What do you do when these moments of sadness arise? Do you let yourself cry?
What do you eat to bring up bittersweet memories?
What is your favorite holiday treat and why?
Write for fifteen minutes. You can use the audio below to time yourself.
If you had some good insights or surprises from this writing exercise, share them in the comments below!
Lots of love,
Gina Rae
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