A few years ago in a moment of suffocation I asked God to help me have a leaner life. Just writing the word "lean" makes me think of those frozen dinners in the grocery store, the ones that promise weight loss. And that's not what I was going after.
I think I meant a life observed and gratefully accepted.
But in a bizarre turn of events, my life became much leaner and more focused.
Earlier this year after a series of stressful circumstances which I was pretending weren't stressful, my body and soul formed a pact and refused to digest anything. One hundred percent of everything I ate went right through me. I spent two months just eating and eating, not gaining weight, not losing weight. Always ravenous. Desperate. Searching online for answers (well, duh) and having multiple doctor visits which offered mostly prescription medications, but nothing which reached the root of things.
I went on a weekend spiritual retreat to cry and pray and watch movies and eat and I became sicker than ever. I left early and managed to tell my husband that I very much needed help. I was willing to try a very, very strict diet which offered roughly fifteen pages of food I could and could not eat. There was more weeping, I assure you.
But desperation will make any coward find courage. I made the food with Dan. I bought the weird ingredients. And then I waited.
To my surprise, the diet was extremely effective. Probably because of science. And I began to heal. Which made me want to test the strictness of the diet and rendered me ill once again. So back to the beginning.
What I don't want to admit is that food is, first and foremost, fuel. Sometimes it is delightful and sometimes it's just not. But fuel is necessary to run cars and so also with humans.
And not to paint too cheery a tone on this whole adventure, but I am donning my apron a lot more these days and looking a little more like Betty Crocker. Except I don't make those weird savory gelatin salads or put mayonnaise in things like cocoa.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm getting back to basics. I'm chopping vegetables and cutting out tons of sugar and making vats of food. I'm buying ingredients for which I used to snub my nose thinking that people were going "overboard" in their health choices, but now it's one of the only things I can eat.
I'm humbled, I'll tell you that. It's a little tricky when people invite me out for dinner because I question how much of my gastrointestinal tale they need to know. Or to put it more bluntly, "How much do I like this person?"
On the plus side, all the keto and paleo and organic people are probably right. Yes, you heard me. You're right. With your microscopic appreciation of food sources and fanny pack filled with homemade tree bark protein bars. Forgive the sarcasm font. I'm probably hungry again.
But on the plus side, I have lost weight which most women love to do. It was hard won, not intentional and not pretty. And honestly if I ever get to eat even coconut milk ice cream ever again, I will eat a pint at a time out of spite (and happiness) and probably gain it all back.
But for now, I am a leaner person (and hopefully by now you see that I'm not referring to physical appearance.) I'm more intentional with food, with makes me more grateful. I interact with making my food more because I don't have the luxury of just pouring a bowl of cereal. I eat even when I'm not hungry because I know that 37 minutes later when I'm driving the kids to some far away field trip, I will want to saw my arm off as a food source. That just won't do because I need my arms to drive.
I won't slam either side of the health fence, however, because in all honesty as I health nut I feel like a poser. When I watch my children scoop their vanilla bean ice cream, I can assure you that the sugar lust is real.
