Picture a Life

I decided to do something new-ish (which I am prone to doing about every other minute or so) though making this particular decision felt like a fight to the finish - as if I were having an argument with several people instead of moving through a thought process. This new idea came out of a class, one person's suggestion, though there's nothing original about the idea. In fact, it's something our parents used to make us to do every night as a family - eat at the table. During the class, when I first heard the idea, I felt an instant aversion. I struggled. I thought...Think of the weight you'll lose ...(so?) Secondly, What will I do while I'm eating?
Um...try eating.

My experiment is to take my meals (except water & coffee) to a table and actually eat the meal at the table instead of my usual trough chair, while reading, watching tele or navel-gazing - thus not deriving any awareness of having consumed, subsequently consuming far too much (of anything and everything) due to a zombie level of awareness.


I'm implementing this idea to move out of autopilot with habits developed over the years. In addition to putting a stop to some negative habits, this experiment will partner well with existing exercise program to bring about increased health. Often I'll exercise more after unconsciously consuming once I snap back into consciousness that I've consumed unconsciously and need the additional activity to metabolize all the crap I ate providing I'm aware.


While eating, the primary rule (if you could call it a rule) for food intake was always anything goes mostly because anything goes.  I became increasingly aware of an almost complete lack of awareness around consumption (due partially to creeping poundage), so about a month ago I made my kitchen cheat-proof removing any food that might be calling out my name. (Do you get the idea that I am both zookeeper and zoo'd while at home?) And my cheat-proof idea has worked well. So far the canned hominy hasn't muttered a word. The sliced onion wrapped in plastic doesn't know I exist. The mustard and assorted other condiments are clueless, moldy cheese, meh. Though some nights, my inner zombie takes over (when I am unconscious) and with arms outstretched I zone into the kitchen rooting for something that once thawed is not covered completely with some sort of unidentifiable crust or mold and can be eaten without registering more than 10 pounds in one night on the scale.


The cancer diagnosis helped me realize a richness in each moment but I have to be really awake to notice this richness. Being diagnosis refreshed my memory --  I won't live forever which I sort of knew already (and took for granted) but needed the reminder so I'd get the most of the each day.


Making this decision to take nourishment at a table is one way to gain more consciousness around food, my interaction with food, and to enjoy the act of simply eating. I love good food and I'm a great cook, so to take my meal with the reverence food deserves instead of shoving food in while watching the fitness channel makes sense. I don't want my days going by in a blur that I can't recall. I don't want to kick the bucket without living all the moments I can, not just the diagnoses, the breakups, deaths, births, marriages and drama but the every day stuff that I take for granted, time between peaks and valleys, the space between the stars. Before I go off to the "Big Sleep," I have a serious desire to awaken.


This past January, Sherry at Nite Swimming 
suggested I start a 365 photo-a-day blog. The simple act of posting a daily photo has revealed a layer of existence that I am now integrating into my world. Having taken the photos and sharing them each day has been akin to a cancer diagnosis sans chemotherapy, vomit and a bald head. I've been reminded once again to stay awake because if I am not awake, I could miss a great photo op.


I want to enjoy each moment with this awareness. Starting with something I take for granted, the act of eating. Finding joy in those 
moments when I am eating will help with clarity and consciousness similar to the enlightenment I'm gaining through the simple act of taking pictures.