Before you eat take a very clear moment to be present. Notice the gift of the community. Be grateful for the people you are with. Look at where you are. Notice the room, the table, the place settings, and the sounds. Be grateful for this place, for these people, for this moment.
Take a moment and look at your food. Take in the colors, the textures and the beauty of the food on your plate. Consider the history of your food. How did it arrive at your plate. Consider how many people do you have to thank for this meal, starting with farmers and ending with the cooks and servers. Be grateful for the amazing intricacy of our webs of connection that make possible this meal.
Smell your food, then take a bite and really savor it. Taste it and feel it and enjoy it. Allow yourself the sensuous pleasure of eating. Indulge in the experience. Eat part of what is on your plate and then pause. Drink some water. Take in the conversation and wait for a moment. Then with a clear head, ask yourself if you are still hungry. Do you want to eat more of this food or have you had enough. If you are still hungry, continue eating. Eat slowly, enjoying every bite. After you’ve eaten more of your meal, pause again. Repeat the process. When you have eaten enough, set your utensils down and enjoy the company at your table. Enjoy the community of your feast.
Eat your desert in the same fashion. Taking time with it, appreciating the food, the cooks, the work that was put into the desert on your plate. Really savor the miracle of the food. Take each bite slowly and in turn, pausing frequently, and stopping when you have had enough.
In this fashion your meal is a meditation and an experience of the divine wonder of life. Your meal is infused with gratitude and will serve you and the world well. Enjoy.
11/24/10
11/5/10
Permitter or Restrictor? Or both?
Geneen Roth divides us compulsive eaters into two groups: restrictors and permitters. Restrictors restrict their calorie intake. Restrictors watch, measure, and count every bite. Restrictors limit their calorie intake. Restrictors over-exercise. Restrictors like diets because diets give us an illusive sense of control. Restrictors like rules to follow. If I eat by ‘this program,’ (whatever the diet of the day is) then everything will be okay.
Permitters on the other hand throw in the towel before they begin. Permitters are suspect of foods lists, diets, programs and rules. Permitters tend to live in denial about their weight: “I don’t understand how I could have gained 10 pounds, I haven’t done anything different.” Permitters deserve their daily chocolate.
And I think most of us oscillate between these two groups. I can easily envision a permitter/restrictor teeter-totter with me rolling back and forth between the ends. Some days falling to the restrictor side and some days I topple to the permitter side.
Lately I think I’ve been falling on the restrictor side. I started using the application ‘MyNetDiary’ that runs on my iPad. It is designed for restrictors and pushed me right over to that end of the teeter-totter. I pat myself on the back any day my calorie intake is less than the program says I need. Aha, I’ll loose weight, even faster than it says I should. I start feeling like a good girl, a success… until…..
Until I notice that I have become depleted. Until I notice that I am struggling to do my usual exercise. Until I notice that I have no sense of humor left. Until I notice that I short-tempered and arguing with my sons over every little thing. Until I have a persistent headache and feel like my synapses are not firing correctly.
All of these are signs that I have not had enough calories in my diet. Last night I took my sons out to eat. I ate a regular dinner. I wrote it into ‘MyNetDiary.” Oh, dear, I’ve eaten my full allotment of calories today. That creates anxiety. Then, after dinner I had an uncomfortable discussion with my son. My next pass through the kitchen I ate the last bit of a lemon cream cookie I had purchased for the boys earlier in the week. I’d been able to ignore it until that moment. And suddenly I could no longer resist. The cookie put me 100 calories over my caloric allotment. Oh no, I fear tumbling to the permitter side of the teeter-totter.
And today, with those few extra calories in my system, I feel physically good. I have more energy than I had the last few days and my headache is gone. I went for a run and I felt great. In retrospect I don’t think I fell onto the permitter side of the teeter totter. Perhaps I just came back to center, where I want to reside. My body has needed more calories than I have been allowing myself. I don’t feel indulged and I don’t feel deprived. I want to stay here, balanced in the middle of the teeter totter.
And for someone who oscillates, it is an interesting place to reside. It takes willingness to live in the moment. It takes willingness to be present. It is almost like walking a tight rope, to stay balanced between the two ends of the permitter/restrictor teeter-totter.
Permitters on the other hand throw in the towel before they begin. Permitters are suspect of foods lists, diets, programs and rules. Permitters tend to live in denial about their weight: “I don’t understand how I could have gained 10 pounds, I haven’t done anything different.” Permitters deserve their daily chocolate.
And I think most of us oscillate between these two groups. I can easily envision a permitter/restrictor teeter-totter with me rolling back and forth between the ends. Some days falling to the restrictor side and some days I topple to the permitter side.
Lately I think I’ve been falling on the restrictor side. I started using the application ‘MyNetDiary’ that runs on my iPad. It is designed for restrictors and pushed me right over to that end of the teeter-totter. I pat myself on the back any day my calorie intake is less than the program says I need. Aha, I’ll loose weight, even faster than it says I should. I start feeling like a good girl, a success… until…..
Until I notice that I have become depleted. Until I notice that I am struggling to do my usual exercise. Until I notice that I have no sense of humor left. Until I notice that I short-tempered and arguing with my sons over every little thing. Until I have a persistent headache and feel like my synapses are not firing correctly.
All of these are signs that I have not had enough calories in my diet. Last night I took my sons out to eat. I ate a regular dinner. I wrote it into ‘MyNetDiary.” Oh, dear, I’ve eaten my full allotment of calories today. That creates anxiety. Then, after dinner I had an uncomfortable discussion with my son. My next pass through the kitchen I ate the last bit of a lemon cream cookie I had purchased for the boys earlier in the week. I’d been able to ignore it until that moment. And suddenly I could no longer resist. The cookie put me 100 calories over my caloric allotment. Oh no, I fear tumbling to the permitter side of the teeter-totter.
And today, with those few extra calories in my system, I feel physically good. I have more energy than I had the last few days and my headache is gone. I went for a run and I felt great. In retrospect I don’t think I fell onto the permitter side of the teeter totter. Perhaps I just came back to center, where I want to reside. My body has needed more calories than I have been allowing myself. I don’t feel indulged and I don’t feel deprived. I want to stay here, balanced in the middle of the teeter totter.
And for someone who oscillates, it is an interesting place to reside. It takes willingness to live in the moment. It takes willingness to be present. It is almost like walking a tight rope, to stay balanced between the two ends of the permitter/restrictor teeter-totter.
9/11/10
Magical Thinking
It was a glorious summer. It’s not over yet, but school starting always feels like the new year to me. After a very active month in July, I was a bit of a slug in August. I taught less, did less yoga, walked less. We took a short vacation and indulged in delicious foods. My Mother was here for a long visit and we sat, talked, drank tea and ate cookies. The scale shows my neglect. It has crept back up to the top of my preferred weight zone. I feel larger than I like to feel. My clothes are a bit too tight.
This is a dangerous place. I can indulge in self-degradation. I can begin to play the mental tapes that tell me I am not good enough. Those tapes are likely to push me into one of two behavior patterns: overeating or undereating. Neither serves me.
Mom went home. Time has opened up again so that I can walk, dance and practice yoga as I like to do. I’m back to my full teaching schedule. I’m eating the way I like. My body is feeling stronger and vibrant, but the scale shows no change.
I find myself thinking magically: it is a dangerous place. My magical mind believes that if I am eating healthy I should return to my preferred weight overnight. Sometimes that does happens. Sometimes magic manifests, but usually it is a gradual process and my weight fluctuates rather than dropping steadily.
And in reality, my weight is not my business. What I eat and how I care for my body are my business. If I make healthy choices, my body responds in kind. But there are other forces at work: age, hormones, seasons, genetics, family and stress. My weight is an integration of all these things, most of which I have no control over. My weight is not my business. How I care for my body is my business.
So, I get on the scale and I take in the information. Then I go back to my life and do the best I can to care for myself. I trust that if I care for myself eventually my weight stabilizes where I like it to be. The timing is out of my control, no magical thinking will change that.
And, regardless of what the scale says, I feel better when I care for myself. My body is vibrant and healthy. I am grateful that it responds so quickly to a little bit of love and care.
(p.s. I am co-leading a workshop of body, mind and food at Breitenbush Hot Springs. Join me and Susan Beekman for a weekend inquiring into the habits of mind that keep us in unhealthy eating patterns.
register at: http://www.breitenbush.com/events/oct7-10beek.html )
This is a dangerous place. I can indulge in self-degradation. I can begin to play the mental tapes that tell me I am not good enough. Those tapes are likely to push me into one of two behavior patterns: overeating or undereating. Neither serves me.
Mom went home. Time has opened up again so that I can walk, dance and practice yoga as I like to do. I’m back to my full teaching schedule. I’m eating the way I like. My body is feeling stronger and vibrant, but the scale shows no change.
I find myself thinking magically: it is a dangerous place. My magical mind believes that if I am eating healthy I should return to my preferred weight overnight. Sometimes that does happens. Sometimes magic manifests, but usually it is a gradual process and my weight fluctuates rather than dropping steadily.
And in reality, my weight is not my business. What I eat and how I care for my body are my business. If I make healthy choices, my body responds in kind. But there are other forces at work: age, hormones, seasons, genetics, family and stress. My weight is an integration of all these things, most of which I have no control over. My weight is not my business. How I care for my body is my business.
So, I get on the scale and I take in the information. Then I go back to my life and do the best I can to care for myself. I trust that if I care for myself eventually my weight stabilizes where I like it to be. The timing is out of my control, no magical thinking will change that.
And, regardless of what the scale says, I feel better when I care for myself. My body is vibrant and healthy. I am grateful that it responds so quickly to a little bit of love and care.
(p.s. I am co-leading a workshop of body, mind and food at Breitenbush Hot Springs. Join me and Susan Beekman for a weekend inquiring into the habits of mind that keep us in unhealthy eating patterns.
register at: http://www.breitenbush.com/events/oct7-10beek.html )
7/24/10
home scale = doctor's office scale! hurrah!
I went to the doctor this week. For the first time in my life my home scale and the doctor’s office scale say the same thing. In the past my home scale has always been about 5 pounds less than the doctor’s office scale. This created an internal dialogue, which weight is true? Which is correct? I end up feeling like I am lying to myself all the time. The discrepancy creates anxiety.
When I first got this new scale and immediately ‘gained’ 5 pounds, I had to struggle to accept that. I knew that I hadn’t gained any weight. I had to accept the new number on the scale. That is my weight. When I went to the doctor’s office, there was a huge sense of freedom. Aha, that is my weight. I can live with that number. I am comfortable here. I felt that I was being honest with myself for the first time.
As a scientist, I know that weight is a relative measurement. The actual number has no particular meaning. You could set the scale anywhere. You can measure in pounds, kilos or stones. Whether it reads 140 or 180 is inconsequential. What matters are the relative numbers, the proportions, and the direction of changes. Actually, if I think clearly about it, what I really care about is how my body is functioning.
I am at my natural weight. My body likes to hold onto a little bit of adipose tissue in my belly and my thighs. To lose that tissue, to lose another 5 or 10 pounds, means obsessing about food, feeling starved, and living in deprivation. It isn’t worth it. I maintain the weight I am at and I feel healthy. My clothing fits. I can do everything I want to do. The only thing that doesn’t fit is the cultural image of what I think a body should look like. I get to keep letting go of my attachment to that cultural image.
I am grateful for this scale that tells me the same thing the doctor’s scale tells me. There is freedom here. I don’t get anxious about stepping on the scale. The scale is a tool. It gives me information.
When I first got this new scale and immediately ‘gained’ 5 pounds, I had to struggle to accept that. I knew that I hadn’t gained any weight. I had to accept the new number on the scale. That is my weight. When I went to the doctor’s office, there was a huge sense of freedom. Aha, that is my weight. I can live with that number. I am comfortable here. I felt that I was being honest with myself for the first time.
As a scientist, I know that weight is a relative measurement. The actual number has no particular meaning. You could set the scale anywhere. You can measure in pounds, kilos or stones. Whether it reads 140 or 180 is inconsequential. What matters are the relative numbers, the proportions, and the direction of changes. Actually, if I think clearly about it, what I really care about is how my body is functioning.
I am at my natural weight. My body likes to hold onto a little bit of adipose tissue in my belly and my thighs. To lose that tissue, to lose another 5 or 10 pounds, means obsessing about food, feeling starved, and living in deprivation. It isn’t worth it. I maintain the weight I am at and I feel healthy. My clothing fits. I can do everything I want to do. The only thing that doesn’t fit is the cultural image of what I think a body should look like. I get to keep letting go of my attachment to that cultural image.
I am grateful for this scale that tells me the same thing the doctor’s scale tells me. There is freedom here. I don’t get anxious about stepping on the scale. The scale is a tool. It gives me information.
7/8/10
Feasting on local fresh foods and quelling the mind's vapid refrain
It has been a busy month. Summer finally arrived. I take a deep breath. My body loves the heat. I eat less naturally. I feast on cherries and strawberries. I pick lettuce from the garden. Eating well is easy. I naturally drop about 5 pounds as I feast on fresh local produce. I feel happy. I like my body and I like my life.
And then this funny old voice speaks in my head “wouldn’t it be fun to lose 5 more pounds.” What does that mean? Why would it be fun to lose more weight? Whose voice is that? It might be my Mother’s voice. I know it was my bff Nancy’s voice. Cindy used to talk in that voice, as did Joan. It once belonged to Doris. I know it belonged to Jan. Gael has heard that voice too. And it still resides in my head. 20 years of meditation and that voice still resides in my head. It begins to play all by itself, regardless of what I want to listen too. Like my old ipod that always starts on the same song.
I can change the song on my ipod and I can change the refrain in my head. I’m tired of the voice. I’ve been tired of it for years. It is an old refrain. And my true self, my bigger self, doesn’t care about losing weight any more. But still the voice plays on. Drones on. Reasserts itself without my choosing it.
I remind myself: I like my body and I like my life. I am happy. I enjoy feeding myself fresh food. I love picking my own food. I love the miracle of food growing from the earth: soil + water + sun + seeds = food! I think if I sat very still I could observe the zucchini vine lengthening, the berries turning blue, and the apples getting bigger. Next year I’ll plant a wider variety of edibles in my small patch of earth. I'm already looking forward to next years bounty.
I keep returning to loving myself. Feeding myself is an act of love. Starving myself is an act of abuse. What is the most loving thing I can do for myself tonight? A bowl of cherries for desert? Pick plums? I am a happy healthy woman.
It is a good time to be alive. It is a blessing to have this body. Regardless of the voice’s refrain, life would be no more fun if I was thinner. In fact, life would be painful and I would be obsessive if I was actually trying to lose 5 more pounds. Trying to lose weight saps all the joy from my life. And I believe in joy. Joy trumps 5 less pounds any day. And so do the Queen Anne Cherries I picked from a wild tree.
And then this funny old voice speaks in my head “wouldn’t it be fun to lose 5 more pounds.” What does that mean? Why would it be fun to lose more weight? Whose voice is that? It might be my Mother’s voice. I know it was my bff Nancy’s voice. Cindy used to talk in that voice, as did Joan. It once belonged to Doris. I know it belonged to Jan. Gael has heard that voice too. And it still resides in my head. 20 years of meditation and that voice still resides in my head. It begins to play all by itself, regardless of what I want to listen too. Like my old ipod that always starts on the same song.
I can change the song on my ipod and I can change the refrain in my head. I’m tired of the voice. I’ve been tired of it for years. It is an old refrain. And my true self, my bigger self, doesn’t care about losing weight any more. But still the voice plays on. Drones on. Reasserts itself without my choosing it.
I remind myself: I like my body and I like my life. I am happy. I enjoy feeding myself fresh food. I love picking my own food. I love the miracle of food growing from the earth: soil + water + sun + seeds = food! I think if I sat very still I could observe the zucchini vine lengthening, the berries turning blue, and the apples getting bigger. Next year I’ll plant a wider variety of edibles in my small patch of earth. I'm already looking forward to next years bounty.
I keep returning to loving myself. Feeding myself is an act of love. Starving myself is an act of abuse. What is the most loving thing I can do for myself tonight? A bowl of cherries for desert? Pick plums? I am a happy healthy woman.
It is a good time to be alive. It is a blessing to have this body. Regardless of the voice’s refrain, life would be no more fun if I was thinner. In fact, life would be painful and I would be obsessive if I was actually trying to lose 5 more pounds. Trying to lose weight saps all the joy from my life. And I believe in joy. Joy trumps 5 less pounds any day. And so do the Queen Anne Cherries I picked from a wild tree.
6/9/10
Anxiety: Comfort Food? Comfort Actions
When some people get anxious, they don’t eat. It seems that their hunger dissipates when their stress loads increase. They are the ones whose adrenaline goes on overload. They don’t sit still, they fidget, fuss, and burn calories. They lose weight in response to high stress. Not me.
Somewhere along the line I learned that food was the solution to everything. When my body is anxious, my default mode is to feed it. The more anxiety I feel, the more I crave comfort food: pudding, milkshakes, cookies, macaroni and cheese, burritos, milk chocolate. I find myself wandering into the kitchen and staring into the cupboards looking for something to take the edge off. I am looking for a drug.
But nothing external will cure my anxiety. I know that now. So today, I tend to find myself staring in the cupboards. Hopeful, but acutely aware that food is an empty solution to stress. Eating comfort food does not comfort, it only makes me feel ill and sluggish. There is no cure in comfort food, only delayed experience, only anxiety accumulated in the body as discomfort and dis-ease.
What to do instead? Write, talk, walk, move, dance, cry… let myself have the emotion. I have accepted the fact that uncomfortable emotion will not go away immediately. I am currently facing professional and family based anxieties that I don’t want it to disappear. I know the situations will eventually resolve themselves and be less anxiety producing. It is my job to attend to them, not run away, not numb away, but to face what is here. To quote the old AA maxim: “to do the footwork and let go of the outcome.”
What to do? I make the phone calls. I do some work. I take a break. I do some yoga, take a walk, or meditate. Then I go back to the work. I talk to the person(s) who I am anxious to talk to. I bookend anxiety-inducing actions with contact with people that I know love and care for me. I ask questions and find support from friends and family.
As I repeat this process, I learn that my anxiety won’t kill me. I learn that it comes and goes of its own timing. Fear is a useful emotion. It gives me information about my place in the world. I walk through it. I walk into the face of my biggest fear and discover… myself on the other side whole and intact. I take a deep breath. And each time I repeat this process I learn that I can do it without comfort food or other drugs.
I’ve been working on this for years. I am not fixed. Confronted as I am today with big anxieties I still want to turn to comfort food. The path of least resistance would be to the cupboard for brownies or cupcakes. But today I choose to write and do my work. My breath feels easier now. And I can pick up the phone and make the next phone call. My world is being created by the work I do. When I don’t run or numb away, I create my world in the image I want it to be.
Somewhere along the line I learned that food was the solution to everything. When my body is anxious, my default mode is to feed it. The more anxiety I feel, the more I crave comfort food: pudding, milkshakes, cookies, macaroni and cheese, burritos, milk chocolate. I find myself wandering into the kitchen and staring into the cupboards looking for something to take the edge off. I am looking for a drug.
But nothing external will cure my anxiety. I know that now. So today, I tend to find myself staring in the cupboards. Hopeful, but acutely aware that food is an empty solution to stress. Eating comfort food does not comfort, it only makes me feel ill and sluggish. There is no cure in comfort food, only delayed experience, only anxiety accumulated in the body as discomfort and dis-ease.
What to do instead? Write, talk, walk, move, dance, cry… let myself have the emotion. I have accepted the fact that uncomfortable emotion will not go away immediately. I am currently facing professional and family based anxieties that I don’t want it to disappear. I know the situations will eventually resolve themselves and be less anxiety producing. It is my job to attend to them, not run away, not numb away, but to face what is here. To quote the old AA maxim: “to do the footwork and let go of the outcome.”
What to do? I make the phone calls. I do some work. I take a break. I do some yoga, take a walk, or meditate. Then I go back to the work. I talk to the person(s) who I am anxious to talk to. I bookend anxiety-inducing actions with contact with people that I know love and care for me. I ask questions and find support from friends and family.
As I repeat this process, I learn that my anxiety won’t kill me. I learn that it comes and goes of its own timing. Fear is a useful emotion. It gives me information about my place in the world. I walk through it. I walk into the face of my biggest fear and discover… myself on the other side whole and intact. I take a deep breath. And each time I repeat this process I learn that I can do it without comfort food or other drugs.
I’ve been working on this for years. I am not fixed. Confronted as I am today with big anxieties I still want to turn to comfort food. The path of least resistance would be to the cupboard for brownies or cupcakes. But today I choose to write and do my work. My breath feels easier now. And I can pick up the phone and make the next phone call. My world is being created by the work I do. When I don’t run or numb away, I create my world in the image I want it to be.
6/6/10
On Reading and Eating
I’ve been reading Geneen Roth’s book, Women Food and God. I think she is brilliant. She certainly describes much of my own experience around life and food. I decided to try living strictly by GR’s rule number 3 this week: Eat without distractions. Distractions include: radio, television, newspapers, books, intense or anxiety-producing conversations, and music.
For me this meant eating without newspapers or books. I long ago turned off the radio, when my young son complained about the violent news. I don’t listen to music or watch TV while I eat. But I do read the newspaper with breakfast and a book with lunch. Last week, I set the reading materials aside when I was eating.
Or at least I tried to. A couple of times I found myself mindlessly nibbling on popcorn and cherries that were on the table when I sat down to read. I had food in my mouth without making a conscious choice to eat. When I realized what I was up to, I had to make the choice to either eat or read. It was struggle. I decided to eat the popcorn but I set aside the cherries for the book.
Just to make it especially difficult, I was in the middle of an addictive novel (Steig Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) It was really hard not to pick it up during lunch. I was jonesing to get back to my story all day. So I ate less at lunch, because I wanted to read.
What did I learn from the experience? It felt like an imposed rule. It felt like a diet. I romanticized the outcome. I found myself responding to the rule in the same way I respond to any diet rule, with unrealistic hopes followed resentments when I am not miraculously changed by the rule.
At the beginning of the week I was more present with my food. I paid attention to every bite. But that only lasted for a few days. I ate with less pleasure that I eat when I am reading with my meal. Setting aside the book reduced the pleasure of the meal.
I missed reading with my meals. I missed the newspaper. I won’t continue this particular practice. It felt contrived and not useful. I agree with her that we are better off not eating in front of the television. That particular black hole sucks our presence of mind away. But I don’t experience the same disengagement from life by reading or listening to music.
And I know, that if the rule brings up resentment, if it makes me feel like I am on a diet, I am very likely to rebel. It is a set up to eat more than I want to, just for the sake of it.
This morning I deliciously indulged in the Sunday paper while I ate my bowl of fruit and yogurt. Yum! I fully appreciated the small pleasure of reading and eating. And to be aware of the pleasure is a gift, thanks Geneen.
For me this meant eating without newspapers or books. I long ago turned off the radio, when my young son complained about the violent news. I don’t listen to music or watch TV while I eat. But I do read the newspaper with breakfast and a book with lunch. Last week, I set the reading materials aside when I was eating.
Or at least I tried to. A couple of times I found myself mindlessly nibbling on popcorn and cherries that were on the table when I sat down to read. I had food in my mouth without making a conscious choice to eat. When I realized what I was up to, I had to make the choice to either eat or read. It was struggle. I decided to eat the popcorn but I set aside the cherries for the book.
Just to make it especially difficult, I was in the middle of an addictive novel (Steig Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) It was really hard not to pick it up during lunch. I was jonesing to get back to my story all day. So I ate less at lunch, because I wanted to read.
What did I learn from the experience? It felt like an imposed rule. It felt like a diet. I romanticized the outcome. I found myself responding to the rule in the same way I respond to any diet rule, with unrealistic hopes followed resentments when I am not miraculously changed by the rule.
At the beginning of the week I was more present with my food. I paid attention to every bite. But that only lasted for a few days. I ate with less pleasure that I eat when I am reading with my meal. Setting aside the book reduced the pleasure of the meal.
I missed reading with my meals. I missed the newspaper. I won’t continue this particular practice. It felt contrived and not useful. I agree with her that we are better off not eating in front of the television. That particular black hole sucks our presence of mind away. But I don’t experience the same disengagement from life by reading or listening to music.
And I know, that if the rule brings up resentment, if it makes me feel like I am on a diet, I am very likely to rebel. It is a set up to eat more than I want to, just for the sake of it.
This morning I deliciously indulged in the Sunday paper while I ate my bowl of fruit and yogurt. Yum! I fully appreciated the small pleasure of reading and eating. And to be aware of the pleasure is a gift, thanks Geneen.
5/26/10
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act:
I found myself saying these words earlier this week: “I'm not trying to lose weight. I like my body the way it is.” I believe these words. I repeat them as a mantra to myself every day. They feel like both a revolution and a betrayal. And, perhaps obviously, I do not believe these words. For I have been programmed my whole life not to believe them. It is time to believe those words. It is time to start a revolution.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. It means walking away from the cultural programming that defines beauty in a narrow unattainable way. It means stepping away from the constant self-immolation of the modern female. We are never enough. There is no possible way we could ever be enough. As the Duchess of Windsor famously said: “you can never be too rich or too thin.” We live on that sacrificial altar, perpetually starving the body into compliance or berating ourselves for eating too much. If we are successful at the endeavor of attaining ideal weight, we may die of madness or anorexia. If we are unsuccessful, we are always postponing life until after we have lost the weight.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. We step down off the altar of self abuse. We step into our bodies. We walk through our grief, anger, pain, and denial. We discover that our emotions will not kill us. We can ride our full emotional range without being destroyed. We may even come to enjoy the ride more than the starved presence of anorexia or the drugged presence of overeating. When we shift our attention away from food, we discover that life is pretty good.
To love the bodies we have is a revolutionary act. It means claiming the self. It means claiming pleasure and pain, joy and suffering. It means stepping into our animal being: yes, this body is mine. I feed it, I clean it, I love it. It is what I hold first and foremost in the world. If I do not care for this body, I cannot fully live this life. Caring for this body is my primary responsibility. The rest comes after.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. Because to love our bodies we have to love the earth around us. We discover that we are equals with all the creatures of the earth. We share this place. Our health and their health are intertwined. To feed and care for our bodies well means feeding and caring for the planet. We are responsible for the health of the world. We cannot walk away from that responsibility.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. It frees us from consumer culture and the story that tells us we will not be happy until we satisfy some manufactured need. Our most basic need is to care for the self. When we are well care for, when these needs are met, we can work for the good of the whole. Not only do we step down from the altar of self abuse, we step off the treadmill of consumption. We discover what makes us truly happy. We discover a deeper pleasure that arises from being our human bodied animal selves. We become free.
To love the bodies we have is a revolutionary act. Act Up!
© Lisa Wells 2010
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. It means walking away from the cultural programming that defines beauty in a narrow unattainable way. It means stepping away from the constant self-immolation of the modern female. We are never enough. There is no possible way we could ever be enough. As the Duchess of Windsor famously said: “you can never be too rich or too thin.” We live on that sacrificial altar, perpetually starving the body into compliance or berating ourselves for eating too much. If we are successful at the endeavor of attaining ideal weight, we may die of madness or anorexia. If we are unsuccessful, we are always postponing life until after we have lost the weight.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. We step down off the altar of self abuse. We step into our bodies. We walk through our grief, anger, pain, and denial. We discover that our emotions will not kill us. We can ride our full emotional range without being destroyed. We may even come to enjoy the ride more than the starved presence of anorexia or the drugged presence of overeating. When we shift our attention away from food, we discover that life is pretty good.
To love the bodies we have is a revolutionary act. It means claiming the self. It means claiming pleasure and pain, joy and suffering. It means stepping into our animal being: yes, this body is mine. I feed it, I clean it, I love it. It is what I hold first and foremost in the world. If I do not care for this body, I cannot fully live this life. Caring for this body is my primary responsibility. The rest comes after.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. Because to love our bodies we have to love the earth around us. We discover that we are equals with all the creatures of the earth. We share this place. Our health and their health are intertwined. To feed and care for our bodies well means feeding and caring for the planet. We are responsible for the health of the world. We cannot walk away from that responsibility.
To love the bodies that we have is a revolutionary act. It frees us from consumer culture and the story that tells us we will not be happy until we satisfy some manufactured need. Our most basic need is to care for the self. When we are well care for, when these needs are met, we can work for the good of the whole. Not only do we step down from the altar of self abuse, we step off the treadmill of consumption. We discover what makes us truly happy. We discover a deeper pleasure that arises from being our human bodied animal selves. We become free.
To love the bodies we have is a revolutionary act. Act Up!
© Lisa Wells 2010
5/24/10
The Ghosts of Diet's Past
Diets are attempts to make sense of the world. My longing tells me that if I could just stick to a diet, all would be well. Magical thinking tells me that if I lost weight, I could return to eating as I have before but with a new body. Magical thinking tells me that a one time diet fix will fix me. (And yes, the media will keep feeding that magical thinking to sell more diets, diet foods, and diet books.)
Here are some of the diets that I have tried:
The grapefruit diet.
The fasting for 3 days at a time diet.
The 1000 calorie/day diet.
The run 5 miles/day diet.
The no white sugar diet.
The no high fructose corn syrup diet.
The no wheat diet.
The all raw food diet.
The tuna diet.
The low carb diet.
The Atkins diet.
The one piece of chocolate a day diet.
The no breakfast diet.
The no dinner diet.
The diet tea diet.
There have been many more. I forget them all. I’ve made them up or read about them or someone told me what was working for them and I thought I’d give it a try.
I attach to a new diet as plan for living, a way to solve my problems. They usually work for a while. I’m liable to lose weight if I stick to the diet for some period of time. I feel good about myself because I am thinner. I, of course, prefer those diets with instantaneous results. The more radical the better. I come to believe that the diet is the solution. If only I could stick to the diet, then everything will be okay.
I can use a diet to lose weight. But all diets are a trick. Eventually I reach some threshold of deprivation. I’m underfed, hungry, angry, cranky, lonely, tired. I become a bad parent, a bad partner, a bad friend. To maintain the diet, my life has to revolve around what I am or am not eating. There is no fun in the life of the dieter.
The flip side of my magical beliefs around diets, is that I believe that my weight is my problem. If only I were thinner life would be … easier, happier, smoother, more successful... I blame myself and my lack of will power for my problems. I become attached to the story that I cannot truly live my life until I loose the weight.
It is all a bunch of crap. My happiness does not depend upon my weight. A diet is a never a solution, but only feeds my problems by feeding my shame. There is no diet that is a solution. Diets are a path to continue living in hell while holding onto the eternal hope of entering heaven when I just get my food in order.
The only way out is to quit dieting all together. The only way out is to learn to eat to nourish and care for myself rather than to reward or punish myself. The only way out is to become a mindful eater.
Here are some of the diets that I have tried:
The grapefruit diet.
The fasting for 3 days at a time diet.
The 1000 calorie/day diet.
The run 5 miles/day diet.
The no white sugar diet.
The no high fructose corn syrup diet.
The no wheat diet.
The all raw food diet.
The tuna diet.
The low carb diet.
The Atkins diet.
The one piece of chocolate a day diet.
The no breakfast diet.
The no dinner diet.
The diet tea diet.
There have been many more. I forget them all. I’ve made them up or read about them or someone told me what was working for them and I thought I’d give it a try.
I attach to a new diet as plan for living, a way to solve my problems. They usually work for a while. I’m liable to lose weight if I stick to the diet for some period of time. I feel good about myself because I am thinner. I, of course, prefer those diets with instantaneous results. The more radical the better. I come to believe that the diet is the solution. If only I could stick to the diet, then everything will be okay.
I can use a diet to lose weight. But all diets are a trick. Eventually I reach some threshold of deprivation. I’m underfed, hungry, angry, cranky, lonely, tired. I become a bad parent, a bad partner, a bad friend. To maintain the diet, my life has to revolve around what I am or am not eating. There is no fun in the life of the dieter.
The flip side of my magical beliefs around diets, is that I believe that my weight is my problem. If only I were thinner life would be … easier, happier, smoother, more successful... I blame myself and my lack of will power for my problems. I become attached to the story that I cannot truly live my life until I loose the weight.
It is all a bunch of crap. My happiness does not depend upon my weight. A diet is a never a solution, but only feeds my problems by feeding my shame. There is no diet that is a solution. Diets are a path to continue living in hell while holding onto the eternal hope of entering heaven when I just get my food in order.
The only way out is to quit dieting all together. The only way out is to learn to eat to nourish and care for myself rather than to reward or punish myself. The only way out is to become a mindful eater.
5/18/10
Epsom Salt Bath Epiphany
Last week I had a painful toe. I wasn’t sure what happened. But I couldn’t take my usual Friday morning walk because my toe was too painful. The skin was red and the toe was swollen. I have neuropathy in that toe, so I thought maye I had irritated the nerve. Some shoes or yoga postures can do that, or maybe I had stubbed it and forgotten. I usually know when I injure myself and this pain seemed to come out of nowhere.
My husband suggested an Epsom salt bath. I figured it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t anticipate a miracle cure. It was one. Immediately after the bath it felt better and after a second bath on Saturday morning it was ‘as good as new.’ Swelling gone, reddening fading. Wow. How'd that happen.
So I went online and did a little research. Seems our bodies have a hard time getting sufficient magnesium. It is hard to digest through the gut, but easy to absorb through the skin. Magnesium deficiency results in all kinds of disorders, from muscle pain, back aches, TMJ, muscle twitches, and nerve pain, to panic attacks, restlessness, migraines and irritability. Magnesium is also necessary for insulin stability and deficiencies may be linked to type 2 diabetes.
The easiest way to get magnesium is by soaking in an Epsom salt bath. Bonus: you leave the tub relaxed and smiling. I got hit by a virus today. My whole body was in pain and I've been dizzy and nauseous. I treated my self to a whole body Epsom salt bath. It released the muscles spasms from my spine and neck. My leg muscles relaxed. It didn’t cure the dizziness or nausea. But I sure feel better than before.
My husband suggested an Epsom salt bath. I figured it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t anticipate a miracle cure. It was one. Immediately after the bath it felt better and after a second bath on Saturday morning it was ‘as good as new.’ Swelling gone, reddening fading. Wow. How'd that happen.
So I went online and did a little research. Seems our bodies have a hard time getting sufficient magnesium. It is hard to digest through the gut, but easy to absorb through the skin. Magnesium deficiency results in all kinds of disorders, from muscle pain, back aches, TMJ, muscle twitches, and nerve pain, to panic attacks, restlessness, migraines and irritability. Magnesium is also necessary for insulin stability and deficiencies may be linked to type 2 diabetes.
The easiest way to get magnesium is by soaking in an Epsom salt bath. Bonus: you leave the tub relaxed and smiling. I got hit by a virus today. My whole body was in pain and I've been dizzy and nauseous. I treated my self to a whole body Epsom salt bath. It released the muscles spasms from my spine and neck. My leg muscles relaxed. It didn’t cure the dizziness or nausea. But I sure feel better than before.
5/17/10
Gut-knowing eating
Gut Knowing Eating
Our bodies are brilliant and wise. They read the room to tell us if we are safe. They know what foods we should eat and when we should exercise. They are attracted to what is healthy for us and repulsed by what is dangerous. Our bodies are brilliant and wise. If only we would listen.
We humans have been hijacked by our frontal cortex. This isn’t all bad. Our brains are very useful and they have invented many useful things, like computers and the internet. We lead comfortable lives because of the innovations of our frontal cortex. They keep us occupied and entertained. But they have taken over the show and we’ve lost connection to our deeper knowing. We’ve lost our connection to our gut.
Sit in a public place sometime and watch the way people walk and move in the world. Most of us literally walk head first into the world. When our head leads our bodies, i.e. head physically-positioned forward of our torsos, the whole body must be engaged to hold the head upright. We’ve sacrificed our bodies to our heads.
Our frontal cortex enjoys dopamine fixes, the short term pleasure response stimulated by food, alcohol, drugs and a host of other process and substance addictions. When the mind makes the food choices, we often choose to feed the pleasure system rather than feed nutritional needs of the body. My mind will choose fatty sweet salty crunchy over healthy most any day.
I’ve been practicing mindful eating: my goal is to pay attention and feed my body what it calls for. Maybe I should call it gut-wisdom eating instead of mindful eating. I slow down and listen to my gut before and during meals. I turn my mind, my awareness, and my distractible frontal lobe, to the wisdom of my body. What does my gut want? What does my body need? Protein, veggies, fruit or grain? Those are the basic nutritional elements. Once I’ve made an assessment of what my body needs, then I can think about the foods that are at hand. How do I fill my body’s need? What will satisfy my gut rather than satisfy my mind. During my meal I stop often and ask my gut again: are you satisfied? Have you gotten what you need? Are we finished or do we need more?
I’m surprised to find that my body only wants about half as much food as my mind wants. I have to get over my ‘clean plate club’ mentality. The uneaten food won’t go to waste. My eating this food will not save a starving child in China. This morning I put half my breakfast of fruit and yogurt back into the fridge. I’ll come back and eat it later as a snack, or I’ll compost it or give it to the dog. It would be a bigger violence to force it into my stomach than to recycle it back to the earth.
There is a deep sense of physical ease when your body is well nourished. It is a different sensation than the mental relief that comes by feeding an addictive craving. As I nurture my body, the physical response to food is satisfying and sensual. I feel satiated when I’m though. I feel more present in my body rather than less present.
Listen to your body. It is very wise.
Our bodies are brilliant and wise. They read the room to tell us if we are safe. They know what foods we should eat and when we should exercise. They are attracted to what is healthy for us and repulsed by what is dangerous. Our bodies are brilliant and wise. If only we would listen.
We humans have been hijacked by our frontal cortex. This isn’t all bad. Our brains are very useful and they have invented many useful things, like computers and the internet. We lead comfortable lives because of the innovations of our frontal cortex. They keep us occupied and entertained. But they have taken over the show and we’ve lost connection to our deeper knowing. We’ve lost our connection to our gut.
Sit in a public place sometime and watch the way people walk and move in the world. Most of us literally walk head first into the world. When our head leads our bodies, i.e. head physically-positioned forward of our torsos, the whole body must be engaged to hold the head upright. We’ve sacrificed our bodies to our heads.
Our frontal cortex enjoys dopamine fixes, the short term pleasure response stimulated by food, alcohol, drugs and a host of other process and substance addictions. When the mind makes the food choices, we often choose to feed the pleasure system rather than feed nutritional needs of the body. My mind will choose fatty sweet salty crunchy over healthy most any day.
I’ve been practicing mindful eating: my goal is to pay attention and feed my body what it calls for. Maybe I should call it gut-wisdom eating instead of mindful eating. I slow down and listen to my gut before and during meals. I turn my mind, my awareness, and my distractible frontal lobe, to the wisdom of my body. What does my gut want? What does my body need? Protein, veggies, fruit or grain? Those are the basic nutritional elements. Once I’ve made an assessment of what my body needs, then I can think about the foods that are at hand. How do I fill my body’s need? What will satisfy my gut rather than satisfy my mind. During my meal I stop often and ask my gut again: are you satisfied? Have you gotten what you need? Are we finished or do we need more?
I’m surprised to find that my body only wants about half as much food as my mind wants. I have to get over my ‘clean plate club’ mentality. The uneaten food won’t go to waste. My eating this food will not save a starving child in China. This morning I put half my breakfast of fruit and yogurt back into the fridge. I’ll come back and eat it later as a snack, or I’ll compost it or give it to the dog. It would be a bigger violence to force it into my stomach than to recycle it back to the earth.
There is a deep sense of physical ease when your body is well nourished. It is a different sensation than the mental relief that comes by feeding an addictive craving. As I nurture my body, the physical response to food is satisfying and sensual. I feel satiated when I’m though. I feel more present in my body rather than less present.
Listen to your body. It is very wise.
5/13/10
Confessions of an addict: Food as Drug
Last week was a hard week. I had numerous emotional challenges and conflicts to face. My neighbor was angry with me and my adolescent son was struggling. I am conflict adverse. I avoid it, I don’t like it, I’d rather not… So, it was a difficult week and part of me just wanted to avoid my life and run away.
I went to Trader Joes to shop. I love Trader Joes. I grew up with the first TJs in East Pasadena. I have watched them evolve and grow. They stock some good foods that no one else has and they sell them for a fair price. And, for this food addict, TJs is a junk-food Store masquerading as a health-food Store. I’m especially vulnerable to the area over the frozen foods, an aisle of cookies and candies that are packaged and marketed to appear healthy. I’m not sure why I think chocolate-covered raisins from Trader Joes are healthier than a candy bar from Fred Meyers, but I do.
So I went to TJs with the intention of buying nuts and bread, and I came home with chocolate-covered raisins. Kind of like an addict casually stopping by their dealer’s to say hello, but really needing up their stash. I notice that I even have a cute nickname for Trader Joes: TJs. I treat the store like an old friend who can supply me with what I need.
With the chocolate in the cupboard, I knew my fix was there. I could go in the kitchen and grab a handful when fear or panic arose in my body. I noticed that when I eat chocolate as a drug, I don’t want to watch myself eat. I don’t pay attention to eating. There is no pleasure in the act of eating. I’m not even conscious when I walk into the kitchen to get the food. I ‘come to’ swallowing the chocolate and realize I am eating.
I don’t remember the exact sequence of last week’s eating, there were some chocolate-covered-raisin mini-binges between my mindful meals. I know that the binges were small and I could argue I was just making a choice to eat chocolate. I didn’t stuff myself with food. I didn’t have a sugar hang over. But I let the food take the edge off my anxiety, “mother’s little helper.” And I came to with food in my mouth not having intended to eat it. That's bingeing, not mindful eating.
And I was able to set the food down before I confronted my neighbor. I was able to knock on her door and face her anger without drugging myself before hand. Her anger did not kill me. My anger didn’t kill me. It wasn’t the most graceful of confrontations, but I said what I needed to say and things seem to have settled down for now. I've been able to work with my son. It seems we're moving in the right direction. I pray that is so.
The chocolate raisins are all gone. I don’t know who finished them. They have been gone since late last week and I have felt no compulsion to replace them. I am at ease in my body again and able to eat my food mindfully without bingeing. My problems have not disappeared, but my panic has abated. I know that I can face anger without chocolate. I know that my anger won’t kill me. Wow, who would’a thunk it?
I went to Trader Joes to shop. I love Trader Joes. I grew up with the first TJs in East Pasadena. I have watched them evolve and grow. They stock some good foods that no one else has and they sell them for a fair price. And, for this food addict, TJs is a junk-food Store masquerading as a health-food Store. I’m especially vulnerable to the area over the frozen foods, an aisle of cookies and candies that are packaged and marketed to appear healthy. I’m not sure why I think chocolate-covered raisins from Trader Joes are healthier than a candy bar from Fred Meyers, but I do.
So I went to TJs with the intention of buying nuts and bread, and I came home with chocolate-covered raisins. Kind of like an addict casually stopping by their dealer’s to say hello, but really needing up their stash. I notice that I even have a cute nickname for Trader Joes: TJs. I treat the store like an old friend who can supply me with what I need.
With the chocolate in the cupboard, I knew my fix was there. I could go in the kitchen and grab a handful when fear or panic arose in my body. I noticed that when I eat chocolate as a drug, I don’t want to watch myself eat. I don’t pay attention to eating. There is no pleasure in the act of eating. I’m not even conscious when I walk into the kitchen to get the food. I ‘come to’ swallowing the chocolate and realize I am eating.
I don’t remember the exact sequence of last week’s eating, there were some chocolate-covered-raisin mini-binges between my mindful meals. I know that the binges were small and I could argue I was just making a choice to eat chocolate. I didn’t stuff myself with food. I didn’t have a sugar hang over. But I let the food take the edge off my anxiety, “mother’s little helper.” And I came to with food in my mouth not having intended to eat it. That's bingeing, not mindful eating.
And I was able to set the food down before I confronted my neighbor. I was able to knock on her door and face her anger without drugging myself before hand. Her anger did not kill me. My anger didn’t kill me. It wasn’t the most graceful of confrontations, but I said what I needed to say and things seem to have settled down for now. I've been able to work with my son. It seems we're moving in the right direction. I pray that is so.
The chocolate raisins are all gone. I don’t know who finished them. They have been gone since late last week and I have felt no compulsion to replace them. I am at ease in my body again and able to eat my food mindfully without bingeing. My problems have not disappeared, but my panic has abated. I know that I can face anger without chocolate. I know that my anger won’t kill me. Wow, who would’a thunk it?
5/10/10
How to eat
I gave up diets years ago. Diets are a death sentence. I become obsessed with food. My mind constantly wraps itself around what I am eating or what I am not eating. Everything else fades away. I don’t have mental space for anything beyond managing my food. I am constantly battling twin mental demons: hunger and desire. I don’t like myself or the world when food and hunger are the primary focus of my life.
If I allow myself to eat without restraint, I overeat. I head to the cupboard continuously for ‘a little something.’ And that little something tends to be a handful (bowlful?!) of sweets or chocolates or a salty crunchy snack. I will nibble my way to obesity if I allow myself to eat without restraint. I feel bloated and physically ill. My body begins to ache. I loathe myself, my body, and my indulgence. I am not a happy fat person.
Where does life exist between dieting and overeating? Mindful Eating is the current name-of-choice for this state-of-grace. It implies learning to listen to my body. I ask myself to notice the physical signs of hunger and satiation. I choose to eat healthy food when I am hungry. I stop eating when I am physically satisfied, not when I am full. I pay attention while I eat, not watching television, reading a book, or being other wise distracted from the physical action of eating.
As with any meditation, practicing mindful eating is simple but not easy. I set my attentions, take my deep breaths, make a healthy meal. Sometimes I flee. I find myself at the end of a meal with no memory of what has just happened. When did I eat that meal. The plate is empty in front of me and I have crumbs on my shirt. And I’ve been checked out for the last 20 minutes. I didn’t even enjoy the food. I wasn’t present to consume it. My mind went into an altered state.
For today, again, I intend to eat with presence. I intend to eat when I am hungry and stop when I am satiated. I intend to pay attention to my eating. I intend to enjoy every mouthful.
5/6/10
Annointing the Self
I was asked for the recipe of what I use to anoint myself in the mornings. Here is my current mix:
Oils and Creams:
Face: Wild Carrot Organics soulshine (rose scented)
Arms and Legs: Inessecents African Shea Oil Unscented
Lips: Arbourdoun’s Calendula Cream
Tummy: Emrita Phytoestrogen Cream (specifically for menopausal mamas)
Scents:
Wrists: Aura Cacia Lemon pure essential oil
Feet and ankles: Aura Cacia Creative Juice (bergamot, lemon and cardamom)
I start with warm slightly moist skin just after showering. I pour a bit oil into my palm (probably a ¼ to ½ teaspoon). I massage hands and arms first. Then I pour a bit more oil and do my legs and feet. I take a small dollop of soulshine and massage my face, calendula cream for my lips. Then I drop about 4 droplets of lemon on my left wrist and rub the wrists together. I drop about 3 drops of creativity juice on each ankle and rub it in. Finally I rub a teaspoon of phytoestrogen cream some where on my torso. I move it around from place to place each day.
I take a good look in the mirror and say "Good Morning Beautiful!" I particularly give love to my belly, my thighs and my booty. :)
5/5/10
Food Rules
Michael Pollan has written the most common sense guide to eating I have ever read. Rule of the day: if your grandmother would not recognize an ingredient as food, don't eat it. :)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)