I write this upon the heels of a crisp October morning walk. Midstream, in Autumnal bliss here on the West Coast, my mood vacillates between appreciation and grief. My eyes drink in the beauty of the fall colour palette and yet I mourn summer’s passing every year. She gave us a good ride over the past few months, but it is still hard to let her go. I am, by nature, a sun loving, fair weather girl. I cherish the freedom of summer dresses, sandals and sleeveless tops. Now it is time for winter jackets and all things that repel cold and rain. But Houston, we seem to have a problem here; I have completely out grown my closet full of winter warmth. Yes, I could just go out and invest in yet another new coat but the army of outcasts in the closet are begging me for reunification. Damn you Coronavirus; you were the ultimate icing on the “Fuck it” button excuse to free range every bakery in town and now, I must pay or I can no longer play.
I am pretty sure that I am not the only human on planet earth who was planning for 2020 to be a game changer. AND. I’m pretty sure that I am not the only human on planet earth who did a palm slap when I realized the new game had Jumanji-like rules. January 2020 started out so well; it was going to be the year that my creeping weight gain and were going to part ways. I took a break from alcohol and refined sugars, started a liver cleanse, and adopted a plant based diet that fed my curiosity for exploring new recipes while helping my waistline shrink. And it was working! By mid February I was Insta posting and Insta boasting a 14 pound weight loss over a 44 day period. Yup I was stoked and solid in my resolve to become the purest of the pure forevermore. Ha! I believe it was John Lennon who said that “life is what happens when you are busy making other plans”.
There is nothing like a global pandemic to shake the smug self-enlightened smile off your face and rattle your budding zen core. It is a simple psychological reality that the path to change often includes a few detours along the way. In the Transtheoretical Model for change, relapse can be expected and it can shine a light on where more work is needed when it comes to recognizing triggers. Apparently social isolation and a sense of impending doom are some triggers I still need to work on. Or, more simply put – a loss of control gave me permission to be out of control? Yes, I was conscious when I flicked the “fuck it” switch. After a lifetime of controlling behaviours regarding diet and fitness, the impending apocalyptic new world shone a blinding spotlight on all illusion of control. At this point, I embraced the shadow and let go. Let it all go…
Is it food addiction or just an affliction? Does it matter? Last March, the day after Covid 19 induced a country wide shutdown, I marched across the barren road to grab a box of wine and a grocery bag full of treats I normally would not indulge in. If the world was going to end, I was aiming to be numb and feeling no pain. My relationship to using food as a coping mechanism has roots in my early childhood. I was a sensitive soul growing up in a tumultuous home and food was where I found comfort. Eating provided temporary relief from my emotions and a way to displace them at the same time. It was much safer to be angry at myself for eating a tub of ice cream that to approach the object of my anger or confusion. Yes, years of searching and self-psychoanalysis have brought much cognitive understanding of my shit, but I have also learned that intellectual knowledge of a subject does not equate to an experiential embodiment of a subject. You can understand how shit moves and still be constipated. When up against the wall, we always resort to the coping mechanisms that are deeply engrained in our psyches unless we have finally managed to reformat the programming.
Oh and the irony of intention! Ten months into 2020 and I am limping into the home plate of 2021 with more baggage on my bones that I started with. While impending doom seems to be a new flavour that is going to stick around on the menu for a bit, life will continue on in one form or another. A few years from now, Covid 19 will be the faded backdrop for a more current crisis to stir our fears and challenge our senses. Our new normal is asking for flexibility, adaption and evolutionary change. Our new normal is throwing down a challenge to find equanimity and peace within and to quit looking for it in external sources. I have a choice to make. Do I continue on with my Corona coping ways and buy yet another winter jacket to soon outgrow or do I set my GPS on finding the path back to my old friends in the hall closet? I say, there is nothing like the comfort and warmth of old friends and we shall play again…
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost
anewthreshold.org 