Food is a thing of joy. It is a thing of love and it is a thing of celebration. It should taste wonderful, it should be evocative and it should not be full of angst, but I know that is not the case for a lot of people. I really do believe a big part of that is the current focus on ridiculous diets and eating plans and rules instead of enjoyment, moderation and joy.
That quote is from Rena over at Diabetogenic and while what Rena writes on her blog often makes sense to me–part of me–I have to say that there is another part of me for which this statement about food makes no sense. It’s not that the statement itself is lacking or nonsensical in and of itself. It’s that my mind and how it processes food is so askew as to not be able to see food in a proper context. Ever.
No, that’s too dramatic a statement. There are moments when I can see food as just food, but they are few and far between. Most of the time I struggle to put food in its proper place among the liturgies of my life.
Food should not be worshiped!
I hate addiction.
I hate everything about it.
I hate how it monopolizes.
I hate how it shapes.
I hate how it distracts.
I hate how it steals.
I still don’t know how to change the things I hate about addiction long-term.
Is it the dieting, planning, or always-conscious-awareness-of-food that perpetrates my addiction? But wait, don’t I need to stay awake around food? Won’t forgetting mean weight gain? I’m totally convinced it will. That’s how it works for me.
Is THAT part of the problem; my conviction that weight gain is always there, always crouching around the corner, always ready to trip me up?
Some days my hate of addiction is painful.
It’s always palpable.
There is always that niggling lil nod to fantasy stirring in my brain. Fantasy about food.
I wish I could have just one day without addiction. What a vacation that would be.
How big is the shadow food casts in your life? How good are you at putting food in its place?