Save the Best for Last

Rules, dogma, beliefs, and expectations regarding behavior with food - they're so much a part of my mental backdrop that I didn't really question them until recent years.  I was born in 1973, so I came of age during a time the diet craze was permeating every venue from school to church, home to market, neighbor to neighbor.  My earliest memories of my mother involve her many diets.  When my father had a heart attack (I was fifteen), the low-fat concept was preached as absolute salvation from all woes.  It radically and rapidly changed everything from pantry to plate for my entire family - we were quick and militant converts to the low-fat/no-fat movement.  Thank Heaven, science has debunked those ways, but it left many folks sick while it held sway.

Image credit:  thelist.com

There's history, however, prior to the days of leg warmers and excessive hair spray, relevant to the stage I'm setting.  My father was born in Missouri during the time of the Depression and under the weight of the Dustbowl Era.  He and my grandfather moved here for work and then my grandmother and aunt followed in the state-to-state migration of the family.  He knew real want, knew real hunger, and knew scarcity as a status quo.  My mother was born here in Oklahoma in 1945, and lived near other family members, sharing with neighbors in order to scratch out meager rations.  To have some sweet, decadent food was indeed a special occasion - a feast of sorts - and treated with reverence.

Humans have celebrated with feasts and commemorated times of fasting since we were created.  Food scarcity is still a problem for many around the world; and when food is made available, it is wise for those who suffer such lack to get what they can - even saving the choicest bits for last, something to look forward to and to relish until the next opportunity.  Forced periods of fasting are rare to most whose eyes will see these lines.  We have access in excess of our needs, at least when it comes to acquisition of something to sate the appetite.  Feasts have become our default as it is common for coworkers to have lunch in restaurants - and one must "get the money's worth."  Portion sizes served typically are so enormous as to be shameful - eliciting a shame response for certain when a consumer is in fact able to "finish the plate."  We feast ourselves fat and fail to fast in balance, the voice of our body's higher wisdom drowned out by the cacophony of internal and external static.

Chew on this:

• When was the last time you dined out in a restaurant that was devoid of screens - on the walls, on the table, or those we currently tote around with us?  
• When was the last time you partook in a meal and simply savored the blessing of your freedom to choose what sat before you?  
• When was the last time you noticed you felt absence of hunger before you felt uncomfortably stuffed - or saw the plate's entire surface area exposed like some magic trick?

I grew up being admonished to "save the best for last," but never truly questioned the wisdom of it until recent years.  What if, given the vast opportunities to nourish oneself, I approached the plate differently - electing instead to discern what aspect my intuition hinted was the nourishment I needed in that moment?  Then, rather than endeavor to maintain the cultural conditioning of consumption (cleaning the plate), what if I paid attention to the processes of my amygdala/hypothalamus in its dance with the other "brains" of digestion - the spirit/heart and the "gut-brain?"  What if I listened to the subtle suggestions of this amazing body and learned what it is to be comfortably fed, ceasing to consume more until I felt less so?  What if (nutritionally) that's the "best" I've been saving for the "last" decades of my life? 

I realize I've indulged in a bit of repetitive introspection, but perhaps someone reading this needed to think this through and hadn't yet done so.  I'm so grateful to live in relative ease when it comes to accessible edible abundance, the freedom to choose, the luxury of setting down the fork because I know there will always be something when I am in need again.  Not everyone has the advantage - I was once one of those folks, and it informed the first few decades of my life.  Scarcity now, however, is merely a perceived threat for me, rather than a present one.  Can you relate?

Jotting with Johnna:

• When you prepare to eat, what items do you prepare other than the food and utensils?
• Does the thought of eating without the distractions of television or reading or other entertainment cause you anxiety?
• Where do you notice you have developed habits around food that may no longer be relevant?
• What can you do today to apply an eraser to parts of the nourishment script you've followed?
• List a few ways you might detach from the distractions during meal/snack times.

Remember:
We learn as we go, and we don't have to stop that learning in any area.  You are worth the self-study, the awkward moments, the space-shifting it may take to evaluate your mind's programming regarding nourishment, entertainment, waste, and any other concept that comes up for you as you read these lines.

Stay tuned.  Stay focused.  Stay well.