If this is vague, it's not intentional, but it's our attachment to things we're asked to "sacrifice" for holiness that gets us into trouble, not the "thing" itself. Or shall I just speak pour moi . I frickin' love me some food. I also frickin' hate me some food, and ain't that always the way of it?
So, what I did was I stopped eating for a while.
Don't tell my also-non-existent nutritionist.
I had to, Churchill. It was the only way I knew how to actually LOOK at it all so food and I went through a trial separation. Like every separation when the relationship is one you want very much to keep, it was a time of awareness and me telling myself,
"This isn't the end of my life."
"This feeling will pass."
"Wait a minute, what exactly is this feeling?"
That's the habit I have begun to make a part of how I define myself because I have decided it is my responsibility to check on me. That I have gone so long without doing so, expecting someone "out there" to do so, is evident in my life and when I ask me what I'm feeling, very rarely has the answer been, " A biologically driven need for food." The word food could just as easily be applied to any habit, pattern, obsession etc that sucks even a little happy out of your life: shopping, men, women, phobias, drinking, etc., etc., etc., ad infinitum.
My intention was to break up with food for a long cleansing series of weeks, full of prayer, mediation and trying not to kill anyone in a blood sugarless rage. I made it two days. It's okay. That was enough for me to make a promise to Love.
"I will revere each sensation you have given me."
This included a reverential "thank you for the beauty and the process but no" to some expensive, time consuming baby artichokes that I didn't eat because they were not tasty baby artichokes and my eating them would not have fed anyone in need of food. This also included one and only one of these:
i eat that way now. slowly. it's hard. i do it anyway. and it feels a little like dancing with a very good partner.
i eat that way now. well. i won't eat anything that i wouldn't want to share with Love
i eat that way now. generously. i eat with someone or i wait until i can. period.
i eat that way now. all the way. cabbage, chilies, coriander, garlic and sesame oil should be a perfume.
i eat that way now. openly. i have a butcher. i have a fish monger. i know people's names at the market. people know i eat and not only do i not care, i'm thrilled. the thing i have loved/hated for so long has opened my life up to some amazing people. in the coming days, since we're on the subject of my imaginary French friend, i'll introduce you to some of them.
Speaking of Emma, the chic French woman with the dancer's body who isn't real but is teaching me to eat, she gave me some words of wisdom to pass along,
"Le faim est le meilleur épices".
She also asked me to ask any of you that speak French without the assistance (spelled the same ways in both languages *does lingual fistpump) de le google (emma is weeping at this point) to tell me if there was an idiom for, "Hunger is the best spice."