Going through the “Am I Hungry?” training now is a bit strange, in a way, since I went through a lot of this on my own when I was losing weight, but I had to figure it out for myself. Some of what I’d experienced was already fairly present in my mind from writing about my experience, but it’s becoming even clearer now.
I remember how much I used to eat because of stress. If anything bad or difficult happened, generally the first thing I did was reach for the food. When I was in the process of losing weight, tried to get away from that, but it wasn’t easy. I particularly remember one time when I’d had a really hard day, things were getting ugly with my dad’s ex-wife, and just generally I was feeling overwhelmed. When I got out from work, I had a wavering moment, because the bus dropped me off right in front of a little convenience store that also sold things like subs, pizza, chicken fingers, and French fries. I was craving the chicken fingers and French fries, but by then I knew that I only want those specific foods because I was stressed. I managed to walk away from it, and kept going for a short walk before feeling better and returning home for a lighter dinner, when I was actually hungry. And I remember how that felt like such an accomplishment, to recognize that moment and to change what I might have done previously.
When I was younger I also ate a lot for comfort. If I was sad or disappointed or lonely, again, I typically turned to food, often cookies or cakes or anything sweet. It took me a long time to get past that, and to figure out other ways of dealing with that need for comfort. Another moment from when I was losing weight was when I felt that urge to eat for comfort, but I didn’t go for it. Instead, I realized that the comfort I was looking for was something to connect me to my childhood. So I put in one of my favorite movies from growing up, Ghostbusters, and did cross stitch instead. I termed it “comfort viewing” instead of “comfort eating”. And I did feel better, without the added stress of gaining back some of the precious lost pounds.
In watching some of the videos and hearing Michelle talk about getting to the root of some of our eating problems, I remember that my own initial reasons for eating were probably stress and boredom and loneliness, but then it snowballed. My parents and other family members became concerned about my weight, and that quickly became the major focus. And so I discovered later on that I desperately wanted my family to accept me for who I was, regardless of the weight. All my attempts to lose weight had therefore failed, because it was to please them, and it was also because part of me felt like I shouldn’t lose weight until I had gained that acceptance. When I finally started losing weight, I realized that I couldn’t let my health and happiness be impacted by other people’s views of me. I had to accept myself, and once I started doing that, and realizing that I wanted to be healthier for me – that was when I succeeded.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Children Starving in Africa
I recently watched Dirt: The Movie!, a documentary about just that – dirt. It explores the effects of certain agricultural practices on the dirt that is our earth’s skin, and that supports us all, and cautions us that if we are not careful, we will lose so much of the topsoil that we will no longer be able to grow enough food to support our ever-burgeoning population.
This is a major concern, with many implications. For instance, one of the things that particularly struck me was in looking at one place (I believe in Africa) where there’s no food, or not enough, because of these very issues. The people there live with hunger on a daily basis. One way that they alleviate their hunger pangs, at least momentarily, is to actually make little cakes out of water and dirt.
I’ve been thinking a lot about hunger pangs myself recently, as part of my facilitator training for the “Am I Hungry?” program, but in a very different way. We talk a lot about learning to identify when we’re actually hungry, and one of the ways is if we suffer hunger pangs. What’s strange in our culture is that many of us are so disconnected from our bodies that we no longer recognize when we’re hungry or not. Some people eat so constantly that they never feel hunger pangs, or any other symptom of hunger.
One of the reasons some of us get to this point is because our parents urged us to eat everything on our plate, sometimes using guilt as a tool by telling us, “There are children starving in Africa.” (Or other country of choice.)
I think the intent behind this is to make us feel like we should take advantage of what we have and eat as much as we’re given. But how does it help those starving children if we overeat so much that we forget what it feels like to be hungry? We instead end up getting away from the rhythms of our body, eating even more food, and thereby taking up more resources that we don’t need.
I have an alternate suggestion. If you have enough money to buy more food than you will eat, perhaps you could cut back to only what you need. With any money left, put it towards ending hunger, in Africa as well as closer to home. I suspect that would make a much bigger difference towards those starving children and their parents than eating more than we actually need.
This is a major concern, with many implications. For instance, one of the things that particularly struck me was in looking at one place (I believe in Africa) where there’s no food, or not enough, because of these very issues. The people there live with hunger on a daily basis. One way that they alleviate their hunger pangs, at least momentarily, is to actually make little cakes out of water and dirt.
I’ve been thinking a lot about hunger pangs myself recently, as part of my facilitator training for the “Am I Hungry?” program, but in a very different way. We talk a lot about learning to identify when we’re actually hungry, and one of the ways is if we suffer hunger pangs. What’s strange in our culture is that many of us are so disconnected from our bodies that we no longer recognize when we’re hungry or not. Some people eat so constantly that they never feel hunger pangs, or any other symptom of hunger.
One of the reasons some of us get to this point is because our parents urged us to eat everything on our plate, sometimes using guilt as a tool by telling us, “There are children starving in Africa.” (Or other country of choice.)
I think the intent behind this is to make us feel like we should take advantage of what we have and eat as much as we’re given. But how does it help those starving children if we overeat so much that we forget what it feels like to be hungry? We instead end up getting away from the rhythms of our body, eating even more food, and thereby taking up more resources that we don’t need.
I have an alternate suggestion. If you have enough money to buy more food than you will eat, perhaps you could cut back to only what you need. With any money left, put it towards ending hunger, in Africa as well as closer to home. I suspect that would make a much bigger difference towards those starving children and their parents than eating more than we actually need.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Joy of Cooking
I’ve recently seen some commercials for the new Lean Cuisine Market Creations. I don’t have this is exactly right, but they go something like this.
A woman in the kitchen says, “I find chopping vegetables relaxing after a long day of work.”
The scene freezes and a disembodied voice says something like, “Who really finds cooking relaxing at the end of a long day?”
it then cuts to this new Lean Cuisine product, a bag that has a mixture of vegetables and possibly some protein that you can just pop in microwave. The vegetables steam in the bag, and then you just put it on a plate and voila! As their website says, it’s “a truly enjoyable dinner experience without the fuss.”
But I actually take a bit of offense to this ad because I do enjoy cooking at the end of the day. After sitting at a desk and staring at a computer screen for hours, it’s a wonderful change of pace to do something tangible and physical. Chopping vegetables can also be quite cathartic, depending on how my day has gone.
I will admit, though, that I didn’t always feel this way. In fact, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to enjoy cooking until I had my surgery four years ago and couldn’t cook for a while. I was supposed to avoid bending my arms much, and preferably to keep them propped up on pillows at least for the first few days. Makes cooking a bit difficult.
Once I recovered, I realized how much I delight in this process. I can come home, put on some music, and chop and stir and season away, taking in the beautiful colors of the food, the enticing aromas, all the while knowing that I am creating something both nourishing and delicious. Why would I want to just stick a bag in the microwave and dump it on a plate? Not for me, thanks. I’ll stick with the joy of cooking.
A woman in the kitchen says, “I find chopping vegetables relaxing after a long day of work.”
The scene freezes and a disembodied voice says something like, “Who really finds cooking relaxing at the end of a long day?”
it then cuts to this new Lean Cuisine product, a bag that has a mixture of vegetables and possibly some protein that you can just pop in microwave. The vegetables steam in the bag, and then you just put it on a plate and voila! As their website says, it’s “a truly enjoyable dinner experience without the fuss.”
But I actually take a bit of offense to this ad because I do enjoy cooking at the end of the day. After sitting at a desk and staring at a computer screen for hours, it’s a wonderful change of pace to do something tangible and physical. Chopping vegetables can also be quite cathartic, depending on how my day has gone.
I will admit, though, that I didn’t always feel this way. In fact, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to enjoy cooking until I had my surgery four years ago and couldn’t cook for a while. I was supposed to avoid bending my arms much, and preferably to keep them propped up on pillows at least for the first few days. Makes cooking a bit difficult.
Once I recovered, I realized how much I delight in this process. I can come home, put on some music, and chop and stir and season away, taking in the beautiful colors of the food, the enticing aromas, all the while knowing that I am creating something both nourishing and delicious. Why would I want to just stick a bag in the microwave and dump it on a plate? Not for me, thanks. I’ll stick with the joy of cooking.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Food for Cattle
Yesterday when I came back from the Farmer’s Market, laden with produce, a man in the elevator asked me, “How does the corn look?”
“It looks good,” I said. “Everything does, actually.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m from New Jersey, and even though my wife says it’s different here, to me, corn is only meant for one thing – food for cattle.”
He left the elevator before I could think of how to respond. I’ve had issues with corn and the cattle industry ever since reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma, but this was the first time that I had ever actually encountered anyone who had internalized our society’s strange use of corn so deeply that he no longer considered it a food. I have to say it disturbed me deeply.
I still don’t know how we’ve come to this point, where we’ve encouraged so much growth of corn that we need to get rid of the excess by turning it into a sweetener and, perhaps worse, feeding it to animals. Cows’ stomachs aren’t meant to digest corn. Ours are. Why are the cattle eating the corn, then, instead of people? Particularly when it makes the cattle sick, so we have to give them antibiotics to keep them from dying too soon, and then we get to eat the meat from the unhealthy cows. How is this a win?
I still remember the sometimes extreme measures my mom would take in her attempt to keep our corn from being food only for the raccoons. Even though she was allergic to it and couldn’t eat much, she loved corn so much that she still grew some of it and tried all sorts of things to keep it safe. Perhaps the most memorable was putting my brother’s dirty socks out around the corn. Nothing really worked, but those few ears that we got were so precious and delicious and treasured. We wouldn’t have dreamed of giving them to an animal to eat.
I think I will stick with eating the corn myself, instead of eating the cattle that eats the corn, particularly these days when it’s fresh and sweet and delicious. I’ll let the cows eat the grass that I can’t, and we’ll both be much happier.
“It looks good,” I said. “Everything does, actually.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m from New Jersey, and even though my wife says it’s different here, to me, corn is only meant for one thing – food for cattle.”
He left the elevator before I could think of how to respond. I’ve had issues with corn and the cattle industry ever since reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma, but this was the first time that I had ever actually encountered anyone who had internalized our society’s strange use of corn so deeply that he no longer considered it a food. I have to say it disturbed me deeply.
I still don’t know how we’ve come to this point, where we’ve encouraged so much growth of corn that we need to get rid of the excess by turning it into a sweetener and, perhaps worse, feeding it to animals. Cows’ stomachs aren’t meant to digest corn. Ours are. Why are the cattle eating the corn, then, instead of people? Particularly when it makes the cattle sick, so we have to give them antibiotics to keep them from dying too soon, and then we get to eat the meat from the unhealthy cows. How is this a win?
I still remember the sometimes extreme measures my mom would take in her attempt to keep our corn from being food only for the raccoons. Even though she was allergic to it and couldn’t eat much, she loved corn so much that she still grew some of it and tried all sorts of things to keep it safe. Perhaps the most memorable was putting my brother’s dirty socks out around the corn. Nothing really worked, but those few ears that we got were so precious and delicious and treasured. We wouldn’t have dreamed of giving them to an animal to eat.
I think I will stick with eating the corn myself, instead of eating the cattle that eats the corn, particularly these days when it’s fresh and sweet and delicious. I’ll let the cows eat the grass that I can’t, and we’ll both be much happier.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Hansel and Gretel
I recently saw a wonderful opera production of “Hansel and Gretel”. I was obviously familiar with the story – although this version was considerably sanitized – but I had never before quite realized that the whole plot revolves around food.
In the beginning, the absence of food is what causes much of the conflict. (And here, in the opera version, this requires some willing suspension of disbelief. The whole family is supposedly quite hungry, yet the performers looked remarkably well-fed.) They have been subsisting on bread and water, and whatever plants they can forage, having had no money to buy anything more.
This leads to Hansel’s desperate cries, “I’m so hungry!”
Hearing that, I couldn’t help contrasting it to most of us in Western society, who have so much food that we eat more than we need, and often from some motivation other than simple hunger. What would those peasant children think if they saw us? What would we or our own children think if we were placed in that situation, with true hunger such a constant companion it is expected, becoming simply a dull ache, or a certain lethargy? Would we be tempted to follow the lead of the step-mother in the more traditional versions, convincing her husband to leave his children in the forest because they can no longer afford to feel all four family members?
And what a horrible thing that must be, to see your children go hungry and waste away before your eyes, knowing you cannot provide for them. It might be easier to abandon them, imagine some better fate somehow awaiting them in the wood. This is where the sanitation came in – in the opera version, the children were sent to pick strawberries as punishment for breaking a jug with cream. In either case, the reason for them being in the forest is food-related.
It is small wonder, then, that the children so immediately start eating the witch’s confectionary house when they find it. They know they should not consume someone’s house, yet they conveniently create excuses and reasons, and start eating. When they hear the witch ask, “Who’s nibbling on my house?” they ignore it, pretend it’s the wind. Would we be any different? Gluttony is listed as one of the seven deadly sins, but is it gluttony if you’re starving? I do wonder, though, if the house might include different foods were the story written today. Perhaps French fries, potato chips, ice cream, candy bars, or pre-packaged snack cakes. And maybe something gluten-free as a nod to those with food allergies? Whatever the case, I strongly doubt that children these days would be satisfied with almonds and raisins as treats, which is what Hansel was fed.
When the witch finally emerges, we discover why she built such a house. To attract children to use in her meals! While I don’t consider other people to be viable options for assuaging hunger, it was apparently the norm for the witch. (Brief aside – the portrayal of witches in fairy tales drives me crazy, but that’s another subject altogether.) So here again, the motivation was food. What we never learn is if the witch’s hunger could be assuaged by anything else, or if for some reason only small children would nourish her. Not that it matters to the story, exactly, but it’s interesting to consider. Again, is it gluttony, or evil, if that is what you need to eat in order to live?
The resolution of the story is also food-related. The witch, distracted by her own hunger, gets careless and is pushed into the oven by children, where she herself is cooked. The children return home, the father miraculously able to support them again. We never learn what happens to the house – do they eat it, or let it rot? – or if the experience has put Hansel and Gretel off of sweets altogether. Those weren’t important details to the fairy tale.
But it does make me think how motivated we are by food. Other fairy tales show this, too. Rapunzel’s mother craved lettuce, and because of that Rapunzel was given to the witch. Snow White wanted an apple badly enough that she accepted it from an untrustworthy source and nearly died as a result. Mortals venturing into Faerie must be careful not to eat of the beautiful displays of food; if they do, they will be trapped in that realm forever.
I know that I, too, can behave irrationally when I get too hungry. My judgment is compromised; all I can think of is wanting to eat something. I’ve decided to consider that the moral of “Hansel and Gretel”. If you get too hungry, you could end up doing something that will have dire, even deadly consequences. If you’re hungry, and have the means, then eat! Maybe then you will see sugar-coated houses, or convenient lies, for what they are and can avoid them.
In the beginning, the absence of food is what causes much of the conflict. (And here, in the opera version, this requires some willing suspension of disbelief. The whole family is supposedly quite hungry, yet the performers looked remarkably well-fed.) They have been subsisting on bread and water, and whatever plants they can forage, having had no money to buy anything more.
This leads to Hansel’s desperate cries, “I’m so hungry!”
Hearing that, I couldn’t help contrasting it to most of us in Western society, who have so much food that we eat more than we need, and often from some motivation other than simple hunger. What would those peasant children think if they saw us? What would we or our own children think if we were placed in that situation, with true hunger such a constant companion it is expected, becoming simply a dull ache, or a certain lethargy? Would we be tempted to follow the lead of the step-mother in the more traditional versions, convincing her husband to leave his children in the forest because they can no longer afford to feel all four family members?
And what a horrible thing that must be, to see your children go hungry and waste away before your eyes, knowing you cannot provide for them. It might be easier to abandon them, imagine some better fate somehow awaiting them in the wood. This is where the sanitation came in – in the opera version, the children were sent to pick strawberries as punishment for breaking a jug with cream. In either case, the reason for them being in the forest is food-related.
It is small wonder, then, that the children so immediately start eating the witch’s confectionary house when they find it. They know they should not consume someone’s house, yet they conveniently create excuses and reasons, and start eating. When they hear the witch ask, “Who’s nibbling on my house?” they ignore it, pretend it’s the wind. Would we be any different? Gluttony is listed as one of the seven deadly sins, but is it gluttony if you’re starving? I do wonder, though, if the house might include different foods were the story written today. Perhaps French fries, potato chips, ice cream, candy bars, or pre-packaged snack cakes. And maybe something gluten-free as a nod to those with food allergies? Whatever the case, I strongly doubt that children these days would be satisfied with almonds and raisins as treats, which is what Hansel was fed.
When the witch finally emerges, we discover why she built such a house. To attract children to use in her meals! While I don’t consider other people to be viable options for assuaging hunger, it was apparently the norm for the witch. (Brief aside – the portrayal of witches in fairy tales drives me crazy, but that’s another subject altogether.) So here again, the motivation was food. What we never learn is if the witch’s hunger could be assuaged by anything else, or if for some reason only small children would nourish her. Not that it matters to the story, exactly, but it’s interesting to consider. Again, is it gluttony, or evil, if that is what you need to eat in order to live?
The resolution of the story is also food-related. The witch, distracted by her own hunger, gets careless and is pushed into the oven by children, where she herself is cooked. The children return home, the father miraculously able to support them again. We never learn what happens to the house – do they eat it, or let it rot? – or if the experience has put Hansel and Gretel off of sweets altogether. Those weren’t important details to the fairy tale.
But it does make me think how motivated we are by food. Other fairy tales show this, too. Rapunzel’s mother craved lettuce, and because of that Rapunzel was given to the witch. Snow White wanted an apple badly enough that she accepted it from an untrustworthy source and nearly died as a result. Mortals venturing into Faerie must be careful not to eat of the beautiful displays of food; if they do, they will be trapped in that realm forever.
I know that I, too, can behave irrationally when I get too hungry. My judgment is compromised; all I can think of is wanting to eat something. I’ve decided to consider that the moral of “Hansel and Gretel”. If you get too hungry, you could end up doing something that will have dire, even deadly consequences. If you’re hungry, and have the means, then eat! Maybe then you will see sugar-coated houses, or convenient lies, for what they are and can avoid them.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Government-Regulated/Forbidden Food
I read an article in the paper today about a forced change being made to some items being offered at a restaurant in downtown Portland. The change is part of a federal grant to help fight obesity, and among items being removed are whoopie pies. Other items will be reinvented with healthier ingredients – whole wheat pasta and reduced fat milk for mac and cheese, for instance – and the nutritional information for all items will be available. Other, healthier options in general will be added to the menu, and some portion sizes cut down.
Now, I’m all for providing healthy options. It drives me bonkers when I go somewhere and all I can get is junk food. Portion sizes are also important. It’s a bit daunting to see how much you get served in some places, since most of us are conditioned to eat everything in front of us. And telling me what’s actually in the food I’m eating is a big plus in my book.
That being said, I’m very, very worried about restaurants or businesses being told what they’re allowed to serve. This seems to go against free enterprise, for one, but more than that, it gets at one of the biggest problems, as I see it, with diets or weight-loss programs – creating forbidden foods.
I know from personal experience that if you can’t get something that you want one way, you’ll find some other way to get it. Removing those menu options will not stop people who want them from getting them, but it will take away that business from the café. Additionally, it starts annoyance and rebellious tendencies festering, making people feel ashamed of eating certain foods, and in general creating a very unhealthy relationship with food.
I would much prefer that they simply make smaller versions of the items, and publish the nutritional information. This allows people a choice, and doesn’t place a stigma on those foods. Plus, what these measures always seem to forget is that certain people have to eat those sorts of foods, some of them all the time because of high metabolism, others because of lots of exercise. Say you just came off a 100-mile bike ride, and went someplace that you could only get salads and low-fat mac and cheese? That would be as bad as going someplace with no healthy options.
It’s all about choice, and what bothers me is that in this case, choice is being removed.
(see the full article in the paper at: http://www.pressherald.com/news/city-hall-says-bye-bye_2010-08-02.html)
Now, I’m all for providing healthy options. It drives me bonkers when I go somewhere and all I can get is junk food. Portion sizes are also important. It’s a bit daunting to see how much you get served in some places, since most of us are conditioned to eat everything in front of us. And telling me what’s actually in the food I’m eating is a big plus in my book.
That being said, I’m very, very worried about restaurants or businesses being told what they’re allowed to serve. This seems to go against free enterprise, for one, but more than that, it gets at one of the biggest problems, as I see it, with diets or weight-loss programs – creating forbidden foods.
I know from personal experience that if you can’t get something that you want one way, you’ll find some other way to get it. Removing those menu options will not stop people who want them from getting them, but it will take away that business from the café. Additionally, it starts annoyance and rebellious tendencies festering, making people feel ashamed of eating certain foods, and in general creating a very unhealthy relationship with food.
I would much prefer that they simply make smaller versions of the items, and publish the nutritional information. This allows people a choice, and doesn’t place a stigma on those foods. Plus, what these measures always seem to forget is that certain people have to eat those sorts of foods, some of them all the time because of high metabolism, others because of lots of exercise. Say you just came off a 100-mile bike ride, and went someplace that you could only get salads and low-fat mac and cheese? That would be as bad as going someplace with no healthy options.
It’s all about choice, and what bothers me is that in this case, choice is being removed.
(see the full article in the paper at: http://www.pressherald.com/news/city-hall-says-bye-bye_2010-08-02.html)
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