In my therapy practice, I often explore the concept of “flow state”—those moments when anxiety quiets and the mind finds peace through purposeful activity. Few activities embody this healing potential quite like sourdough baking, which has become both my personal passion and an unexpected therapeutic recommendation.
There’s something profoundly grounding about working with a living starter that depends on your daily care. Clients dealing with depression often struggle with routine and purpose, but tending to sourdough creates gentle accountability. The starter needs you, and in return, it offers the satisfaction of nurturing something that grows and thrives.
The process itself is meditative. Mixing flour and water with your hands engages the senses in ways that pull you into the present moment—a natural mindfulness practice. The rhythmic kneading releases physical tension while the slow fermentation teaches patience in our instant-gratification world.
I’ve watched clients discover unexpected joy transforming their starter into crusty loaves, tangy pancakes, or rich focaccia. Each creation becomes a tangible accomplishment during seasons when achievements feel scarce. The act of sharing fresh bread with others rebuilds social connections that isolation often damages.
Sourdough doesn’t follow rigid rules—it responds to temperature, humidity, and timing, teaching us to adapt and embrace imperfection. Some loaves turn out dense, others beautifully airy, but each teaches valuable lessons about resilience and trying again.
In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, sourdough offers controllable creativity, sensory engagement, and the ancient satisfaction of making something nourishing with your own hands. Sometimes healing begins in the kitchen.
Here’s a starter kit to use to start your sourdough journey!
