food for thought
April 11, 2013 § 2 Comments
This week my husband and I traded our familiar foods for a suggested menu of vaguely specific meals intended to cleanse our bodies. I agreed to the experiment in self-control, setting aside my reservations to make room in my kitchen for curiosity; a challenge to create meals within a proposed guideline while still gifting us a sense of satisfaction and pleasure.
In much the same way I prepared food for the day ahead, I reserved a brief moment each day to catalogue my thoughts.
Day 1: My initial emotions are an amusing contrast of frustration and awe. I am acutely aware of what I cannot have, textures and flavors made more enticing once forbidden. On the other hand I lingered in the produce corner of our grocery store, gathering new items into my basket for the days ahead, marveling at the colors and textures of unknown fruits and vegetables.
Day 2: So often, in my experience, food is a source of comfort or escape and within this new experiment consumption has become more intentional. I am more cognoscent of pleasure and unrest. This experience has only just begun, still I hope to incorporate my renewed sense of discovery into family meals and greater consciousness into my offerings.
By the end of this day I began studying the limitations of the week ahead for loopholes; weighing my commitment to the experience against excuses for failure. Underneath this suggestion of compromise is a familiar question, at what point is failure more substantial than the attempt? To fail at the beginning seems to suggest an inability to embrace discomfort; to let go in the middle implies a weakness in conviction; to excuse myself from completion, a failure to endure.
Day 3: The first two days required a singular theme of either fruits or vegetables, today is a medley of favorites from both categories. I am surprised to find myself less distracted by the limitations of the remaining days and more mindful of the days to come after this experience, shuffling the contents of my pantry and kitchen into new expectations.
Day 4: Today is the day we are allowed milk, but I have been disloyal, sneaking soy milk into my coffee from the beginning. Like a toddler toting a blanket on a long trip from home it was a comfort I could not, would not, cede. This may be the most telling detail, my resistance to conformity beneath the suggestion of submission.
Day 5: This morning we began with protein. In much the same way I often chose fruits, vegetables, and milk that are both preferable to my palette and more easily tolerated by my body, I elected to substituted chicken for steak. I was surprised by how heavy the meal settled on my stomach, making me sluggish and drowsy. I would be hard pressed to sacrifice meat entirely from my diet, but the difference in my body’s response is not lost on me.
Day 6: Yesterday’s food is still heavy in my body. I have returned to vegetables as my primary source of nourishment, adding smaller portions of protein. I carved out time for gentle exercise, using movement as a substitute for the restlessness and discomfort I feel. Stubbornly I am clinging to my commitment of completing this shared experience with my husband.
Day 7: Our menu today consists of brown rice and vegetables. My agenda for this afternoon involves creating a menu for the weekend ahead that encompasses greater fresh produce in harmony with protein and a birthday indulgence for my husband.
Looking back over the week there was an ever present, unspoken mindfulness that the extreme exclusion of specific foods and nutrients created a threat of imbalance that undermined my confidence in the program we followed. It is doubtful I would do this again and even more unlikely that I would recommend it to others. Still I take from this experience moments of humor and greater consciousness for my food. It is also important to note that while we honored our daily routines of sharing meals as a family I intentionally excluded my children from the restrictions of our diet.
This particular post is a break from my motherhood excerpts, I wrote this merely to capture my perspective of an experience with no intention of endorsing or guiding other’s choices.
scribblechic 
Do you think diet is more easily modified with gradual steps, or does an abrupt change help us adapt sooner? Or is it different for everyone?
Happy birthday to your husband!
I believe small changes create a more natural adaptation and large changes require smaller investments of time. My mother taught me moderation in all things and I tend to agree.
Thank you for the birthday wish.