February 3, 2015 – My love affair with food

Lunch on the Terrace – a wonderful home-made lunch I had with my mom and dad in France years ago:  salade nicoise, baguette, wine we bought the day before at the winery and my favorite comté cheese – yum!

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This morning is day 21 of a 30 day program eating only whole foods (it’s called Whole30).  I discovered it last fall and decided to give it a go after my hubby’s birthday in January.  I’m eating anything I want except: grains of any sort, legumes, dairy, sweeteners of any kind (natural or not) and alcohol. I’m eating lots of vegetables (including starchy root veggies), animal protein, fruits and nuts and seeds.  I’m not measuring or portioning, not worrying about how much fat – I’m just not eating those 5 kinds of food.  My motivation is to see if it will help my sleep and energy.  I’m in a woman’s mid-life transition and both have been challenging.  As I work on growing my work in the world, more energy would make life a lot easier and more fun. I’m awfully tired of being tired.

So far, the results have not been spectacular, though I do notice that my late-afternoon grogginess is gone.  But the “tiger blood” they describe in the program has not yet started coursing through my veins.  It may be that what I was eating was already healthful enough that there isn’t such a contrast. And I’m noticing that I’m finding it hard to not be grumpy these past few days. I think that’s partly because I made a promise to myself that by doing this, I’ve broken.

As have many females in our culture, I’ve internalized a lot of un-loving ideas about my body’s appearance and how it needs to be fed – ideas I’ve spent a long time working to undo.  When I was a teenager – though I was not overweight, I started to go on diets.  It was then when I heard that my grandma, who was in her 70’s and was overweight, was going on yet another diet.  I had the dreadful realization that I could spend my entire life this way, one diet after another.

My path took me to a book called “Thin Within” in my 20’s.  Judy Wardell wrote about “naturally thin people” who eat what they want, only when they are hungry, and stop when they are satisfied.  It was at this point that I got rid of the bathroom scale and have not owned one since.  My clothes tell me all I need to know about my size!  I’ve read a whole lot of Janine Roth’s books and did one of her retreats.  In 2006, through a program called Beyond Hunger, I took a vow – that I’d never go on a diet prescribed by anyone else again.  I have known all along that my body intuitively knows what it wants and needs to be fed, when and how much.

Alongside this struggle for peace with my body and food is a deep appreciation for the place that food has in our lives.  Growing and preparing food was important starting from very early on.  When I was a year and a half old, my parents moved our family – which then was just my brother Joe (who is 11 months older) and me – from a one-bedroom apartment in Daly City to a new house sitting on a bare half-acre out in Woodacre.  That first summer, my dad terraced the large side yard and planted a vegetable garden.  Soon after came my two younger brothers, Matt and Mike, a dozen or so fruit trees and a larger and larger garden.  Every summer since, my dad has planted his garden and fed us with the produce.  Growing up, sometimes our entire dinner came from the garden in the summertime.

My brother Matt lived with me in my little house in San Anselmo – the one I moved into in my mid-30’s, after my divorce.  He planted a little vegetable garden in our backyard.  I remember sitting in the sun one day, looking at the tomatoes when this thought came to me:  “it’s an absolute miracle that we can put a little seed in the soil, add water and sunlight and up comes a plant that grows these red fruits that I’ll put in my salad tonight.  And when I eat them, their cells will become my cells – linking my body to the dirt in our backyard.”

I wrote in November about how I love to cook and how central it is in my life. When I look at how central cooking is and how I so appreciate the beauty and blessing that food is, it just does not make sense that I’ve struggled so much with how to love and feed my body.  But then relationships – of all kinds – can be complex and even paradoxical.  Thus is mine with food!

Though I’m not doing this Whole30 plan for the same reasons I’ve dieted in the past – to lose weight – it’s still someone else’s idea about how my body ought to be fed.  I’m so missing oatmeal in the morning and a little bit of real milk in my tea. The Greek salad I had for lunch yesterday was crunchy and wholesome, but it would have been amazing with just a little feta cheese and a few of those multi-grain pita chips from Trader Joes that I love.

This all leads me to a theme that has been arising in these posts – my coming back to caring for myself.  The truth is what is really needed adjusting in my eating is not the what but the how.  I’ve been eating too much on the run, grabbing something to eat in the car on my way to lead a watercolor group, lunch at my desk while working.  Joe and I have even gotten away from eating dinner at the table together. I’ve been eating at the kitchen counter, reading or being on my iPad, while he’s in front of the TV. I’m missing savoring, and being aware of how it’s actually sacred to put tasty and wholesome food in my body.

I’m not sorry I’ve done 20 days of a Whole30. I’ve gotten a lot more conscious about what I’m eating. I’ve been creative in my cooking, finding ways to make food tasty without all the stuff I’ve been avoiding.  I learned I can make homemade mayonnaise in five minutes with an immersion blender. It’s gotten me away from mindless snacking on crunchy carbs and eating a lot more vegetables – deliciously prepared vegetables are my actually my favorite things to eat!  But I’m also finding myself eating more meat than is natural for me and my tummy isn’t happy about it.  I made a commitment to do this Whole30 thing and there is a voice that is protesting my thoughts of quitting on it. But, I’m paying attention to another voice, the one reminding me I took a vow to myself – this promise is what I’m committed to.

As I write this, it’s still early and my stomach is telling me it’s time for food.  I’m going to get ready for my day and make myself what I want to eat – a warm bowl of oatmeal with berries and milk – from a cow (not an almond).  As I do this, I’m doing something essential – I’m trusting myself, my body and its intuitive wisdom. We’ll see what it tells me in response!

Love,

Cara