There is still a little stigma when it comes to discussing mental health, particularly with men.
I think we are all affected in some way, shape or form. Some a lot, some a little, some noticeably and some you’d never know. I believe all of us have that little voice in there somewhere, it’s how much we let it affect us.
Those closest to me will know that boredom and I are not friends. We are like water and electricity or pineapple and pizza, both of which when combined, typically have less than desirable results.
I didn’t discover this unwanted fact about myself until I was well into adulthood. And when I did, I learned very quickly that I needed to keep myself focused to avoid spiraling into a world of overthinking, self-doubt and being generally miserable.
What I needed was a hobby.
I tried my hand at a few things. I dabbled in running and entered a few small events. After that mountain biking was what kept me occupied, for a time. But nothing really stuck.
Then along came barbecue.
The story of how I started out in barbecue is for another day, that’s not the purpose of this write up. This is more about how barbecue…
I believe there is something about barbecue that sets itself apart from other forms of cooking. The mastery of barbecue is not just proficiency with an ingredient or protein. It’s also the command of the barbecue itself.
To learn the art of cooking a brisket in a conditioned environment with no variables is one thing. But to do so on an appliance that is affected by such things as humidity or the weather, the type of fuel you are using, the size and quality of your protein, how much you are cooking and more, that’s where barbecue sets itself apart. And that’s the allure of barbecue for me.
I’m not saying I’ve mastered protein or pit, or that I’m any better a barbecuer than anyone else. What I’m saying is that I love the process of barbecue. The act of manually working a pit and cooking a piece of meat you’ve selected, trimmed, and seasoned just works for me. It’s a mixture of art and science. Creativity and structure. I can geek out on the intricacies of the most minute barbecue detail or throw caution to the wind and just try something completely new without knowing if it’ll succeed or fail. And it’s something I get as much enjoyment out of being alone as I do with sharing the experience with others.
That’s the therapy of barbecue for me. Sitting in my beloved Yeti camping chair next to the barbecue and just experiencing the primal nature of meat and fire. Enjoying the process of running a barbecue and that feeling you get when you’ve nailed a cook. It just doesn’t get any better.
Barbecue has been good to me. Not necessarily because of any success we’ve had doing it, and we’ve had some, but because I legitimately love doing it. Barbecue is what worked for me and where I found my niche. For others it might be something else. Fishing, playing sport, or tinkering with cars, whatever works for you. I believe it’s important to have something you can escape to. A place to get away from it all and just do what you love doing. It’s good for the soul.
I still struggle with a little over thinking and self-doubt for sure. But I’m thankful for a passion that I’m actually ok at, that gives me focus and that has led me to meet some amazing people who have become lifelong friends.
It has transformed from a hobby that I enjoyed every other weekend into my identity. It is who I am. I’m a barbecuer.
