The Tao of Food

On principal, I think whole and "real" foods are fabulous. Having eaten my fair share of meals that fit that label I have to say that they taste better than a lot of the "other" stuff and it makes me feel good to eat like that, too. And let's not forget the benefits that are reaped by our local farmers and the environment when one eats a natural, whole foods diet.

But when does something that seems so good turn into a bad thing?

Well, when you have the kind of personality that doesn't allow for circumstance, accessibility and affordability, and isn't forgiving of moments when things just don't go as intended. When you're inclined to think like this what's left is a person who can't seem to allow herself any good choices, because, she thinks, what does it matter?

This has been one of my constant internal food battles. Right along with fighting that urge to eat up all my emotions, I've gone down to the mat with this need to eat the "right" and most "perfect" foods.

There's a whole mess of things at play here and a lot of it ends up leaving me mired in guilt. It usually begins with reading something. An article, a blog post - something that catches my attention and brings me straight to the food. Some lovely, slim woman touts the wonders of her mostly plant based, liquid diet that is so wonderful and she can't imagine eating any other way. Pictures on a favorite blog are filled with glowing, happy little children followed by beautiful foodscapes populated with homegrown veggies and local meat. An article explains in full detail how every aspect of my current diet is going to slowly and silently send me, my husband, and my two beautiful children to an early grave. I become riddled with guilt and not a small share of shame over what I have in my fridge and cupboards and vow to change it all.

It's almost like the binge eating cycle I know so well - the guilt, the vow to change, then the attempt to change... But that's just it, I never quite get the change. I'm so often stopped dead in my tracks as I try to plan my next steps to wean my family off of all processed foods, refined sugar, and the other food boogie men that are out there. I'm overwhelmed by the cost and the time needed to prepare and plan, by the fact that not everyone in my household will quietly accept such a big change. It's not that I don't want to change, I just don't know how. And when I can't affect that change, I once again find myself drowning in those waves of guilt and shame. I should be able to feed my family better - why can't I get my stuff straightened out? And then, so overwhelmed by my inability to do what I think I must, I simply give up, retreated back into the foods I know everyone will eat, even if they're not ideal, and wait for the guilt to build up enough to catapult me towards trying to (unsuccessfully) make that change again.

So, as I peruse Pinterest or visit my favorite bloggers, enjoying the visual feast before my eyes, I am indulging in a different sort of self-destructive behavior (or, at least it's self-destructive so long as I let it elicit certain emotions from me), but this is one I think I can handle more deftly than I have my urge to binge or overeat.

I am realizing that my food does not have to be "right" or "perfect", it just needs to be balanced and as good as I can manage. I am trying to tell myself that I must take each grocery shopping trip, each meal planned and eaten, each bite taken, as they come. I cannot eat perfectly every time I sit down to do so, whether your reference for perfect comes from how the meal is eaten to where the ingredients came from. I simply must do my best each time and the changes I want and need will come.

One of my favorite sayings right now is by Lao Tzu, the father of Taoism, and it goes like this: "Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished." This is something that I hold very close to my heart and have started to apply to all those situations where I feel like I must having everything just right right now. In this particular department, I have had to say to myself, "It is better to take one small step forward than none at all, even if it means sometimes taking a step back." I think it falls in line nicely with my new motto, because if I take those small steps towards my goal, at my own, natural pace, I will eventually accomplish everything I need to.

Dinner Time

I was really pretty comfortable, hunger-wise just before dinner the other night. I had been starving, of course, as I finished up my grocery shopping just a half hour before, but just as I was plating my food and getting ready to sit down, I thought to myself, "Geez, I'm really not that hungry right now." Now, granted, they weren't the full portions I would normally have. I cut my burger in half and only took maybe a third of what I would usually have in sides (in this case, baked fries and and cherry tomatoes).

But, I still ate my dinner. I couldn't help it. I really couldn't. For one, the burger was delicious. My husband doesn't cook a ton, but, oh boy, when he does, it's really good. Secondly, as I kept telling myself, I had been hungry, or so I thought, not so long ago, and if I didn't eat now I would likely be hungry later and would eat closer to bed time, which I didn't want to do.

But more than any of that, I couldn't stop myself from eating that delicious dinner, even though I wasn't hungry, because it was dinner time. How on earth could I be expected to sit at the table with my husband and kids while they enjoyed dinner and I just sat there and watched? And it wasn't as if I felt like I'd be missing out. I felt like it would be weird and uncomfortable because it's dinner time and I'm supposed to eat then.

I realize this is completely irrational. Why eat when you're not hungry? It's almost philosophical - it's only dinner time because I say it's dinner time. If I said it wasn't? Would it still be time to eat?