Don't Cheat. Just Eat.

In the last week, numerous people I’ve talked with – friends, clients, my esthetician – all have talked about how they’ll let themselves cheat this Thanksgiving when it comes to what they’ll put on their plates. What they mean of course, is that they’ll eat foods that don’t fall into their usual diets, which might include gluten-laden baked goods, dairy products and sugar. If you’re someone who’s planning to cheat on Thanksgiving (or any day, really), I’m asking you not to. And, I’m also asking you to eat whatever the f*ck you want. Really my request is to stop using the term cheating when it comes to food. 

Our language matters, and in a society where eating disorders are rampant and we are already overloaded with guilt from countless external sources, why use food to pile on yet another serving of shame? 

Cheating is never a good thing. Just think about it in other contexts – tests in school, lovers, etc. There is inherently shame and a sense of wrong-doing implied by the word, and frankly there’s no food in the world that should eat away at your sense of self-worth. Nothing inspires more compassion and heartbreak in me than when I hear people talk about “cheat days.” No more cheat days, please. Just love yourself every day. You can’t do that on cheat days. 

When it comes to holidays, the truth is the whole point is to eat a little differently – that’s part of what sets a holiday apart from every other day. What characterizes holiday foods across cultures and throughout centuries? Generally, they are richer, sweeter and more decadent than anything we might put on our plate on a typical weeknight. That's the whole point.

I’m not advocating to eat mindlessly, but the truth is you can still eat mindfully and have a little pie, and you can even have it with whipped cream, if that will make you happy. A lot of it comes down to moderation and the portions you choose. Having a sliver of pie (and whipped cream too!) isn’t going to change your life in any substantial way. And guess what? If you have a really big piece, you’re going to be just fine, too. Repeat after me: “My body is resilient and can handle a holiday meal.” Truly mindful eating is not just about monitoring what’s on your plate, but how you respond to it emotionally as well.

Guilt around food is not simply pointless; it actually can be harmful. If you finish a meal obsessing about the fact that you ate stuffing with gluten in it, or that you had two servings of dessert, you’re kicking your autonomic nervous system into high gear. When this happens, the capacities of the digestive organs are inhibited, and instead of metabolizing and assimilating your food, it’s processed in a much less complete and efficient way. Simply put: self- judgment will always trigger the release of stress signals and neurotransmitters, and these get in the way of a healthy digestive response. 

In the long view of life, what’s on our plate matters, as poor food choices repeatedly over time are linked to a host of conditions most of us hope to never encounter. When it comes to one special meal – whether it’s Thanksgiving dinner, or another occasion – what’s most important in my view is not what’s on our plate, as much as how we treat ourselves after consuming it.

So eat, drink, be merry. Don’t let yourself be consumed by guilt. If you find your mind spiraling with critical thoughts after your meal today, just remind yourself of my favorite mantra: “There’s always the next meal.” Each meal is an opportunity to make different choices, so if something doesn’t feel good today, try something different tomorrow. 

Happy Thanksgiving! XO

Reflections on Fear: Four Years Down the Road

Four years ago today, I left the corporate world. For those of you who have known me for a shorter period than that and can’t imagine me rocking a BlackBerry and business suite, it is true – I spent nearly nine years working in consulting, from the time I left college onward. If you’d asked me four years ago where I would be today, I could never have imagined I’d be living the life I am living. Even though I am very much doing all the things I dreamed of doing when I made the big decision to leave, at that time my mind would always default to the worst case scenario. My biggest fears as I prepared to leave were always around finances. In my mind, I was going to blow-through the nice nest egg I had diligently worked to save during my final years of corporate work, and within a few years, would be on my knees, begging my former employer to take me back.

I can remember many mornings both before and shortly after I quit, when I would wake up, paralyzed with fear as this scenario played through my head, over and over again. Laying there, I would spend hours composing my future plea to my former boss. And if it wasn’t that, I was calculating exactly at what point I’d have to drain my 401(k), trying to imagine how many months I could not pay rent before getting evicted, and how awful I would feel if I had to call my father and tell him I was going to move into his spare room.

Thankfully, none of these things have happened. Or anything even remotely close.

Had someone interrupted me and told me the many things I would have accomplished professionally since I made that fateful decision to join the ranks of the self-employed, my little mind would have been blown.

Had I been told that not only would I not blow through my savings account (and various retirement funds), I would actually contribute to them, I would have laughed.

If someone had told me I would be a certified life coach and guiding people to do exactly what I did (i.e., quit the jobs they dislike), I would have asked you how I would have possibly have had the time and/or funds to make that happen.

One of my worst fears when I quit was the notion that my passport might not see action for years. Had you told me then I would have visited over a dozen countries in the time since I quit, I don’t think I could even have held space for such a seemingly luxurious notion.

As you can see by now, I was basically a big ball of fear as October 26, 2011 approached.

And still, I did it. I quit. I had faith that despite the worst-case scenarios spun to me by my lower chakras, thousands of years of accumulated survival instincts in my DNA, and all the really annoying parts of my mind, I could somehow get by.

And I did. One day at a time. And I worked hard, and there were months I dipped into my savings to cover my rent. I won’t tell you it was easy. But it certainly has been rewarding.

One of the greatest things I’ve learned in my journey from corporate girl to living the life I love, is that you have to learn to skillfully co-exist with your fear. I’m all for burning through fears and letting them go, but my experience has been that’s way easier said than done. And the thing about fears is that just when you think you’ve finally released one, it has this really nasty habit of showing up again (usually first thing the next morning, if you’re me). 

A powerful tool that really got me through the months leading up to my resignation came out of a conversation with a good friend, who also left a day-job the same year as me. She offered the metaphor that fear is like that annoying relative you don’t really care for but who has a regular habit of coming to visit. You can’t turn your relative away, but you also don’t have to spend of your time with that person. It’s exactly the same with fear – you can’t just eradicate it at will, but you also don’t have to be engulfed by it.

At a recent retreat, there was a little deck of inspirational cards on a shelf in my room. The first night, I drew one that contained this quote by Dorothy Thompson: "Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." From the second I first read it, I found myself passionately disagreeing.

We come alive not when we are free of fear. We are truly alive when we can see the fear, look it directly in the eye, and not be controlled by it. The more we recognize fear and name it, the closer we become to no longer being afraid, to being more fully alive. We can still live fully and richly, even in the shadow of fear. Fear can be a great teacher.

This doesn’t mean we should live paralyzed by our fears. There must be conscious action to accompany them to begin to dissolve them, slowly. For me, my meditation and journaling practices allowed me to see my fears, and to also see the bigger perspective that they were only some of many, many possible outcomes.

The opposite of fearful is not fearless, it is faithful. Had I waited to quit my job until I felt absolutely no fear, I’d still be doing the same thing I did four year ago, and probably would be doing it for the rest of my life. I had to wake up each day to my fear, but to know other paths were available to me. Fear is just one of the many, many options in the choose-your-own-adventure game of life, and just inconveniently tends to be the one our minds default to, thanks to many years of evolution.

One of my favorite fear-alleviating strategies is to name at least three alternative paths to whatever fear I am working with, which just snaps me out of the fear long enough to remember it's not my destiny. Lots of other outcomes are possible, even if they feel out of reach in the moment. Doing this as a written exercise is particularly nice, as you then pull out the list to read when the fear resurfaces (or add to it!)

I’m sharing this story because I know I am always inspired when I hear about people busting through their fears. And because I want to ask you if there’s something you’re not doing because fear has the best of you.  I hope you’ll move forward, have faith and wait not another moment to be more fully alive.

Coming Full Circle

This week, I am reminded of how I ended up with this once-upon-a-time-fairy-tale kind of life that I now find myself living. Spending a week cooking for an exquisite women’s retreat helped me to reflect how my intentions have come full circle, and how the seed for this whole business began. 

My first retreat experience ever was about a decade ago, when on a whim I attended a women’s retreat that I learned of rather serendipitously. That first gathering was magical in so many ways – the deep connection of sisterhood, the outdoor shower under the stars, the towering redwoods that held space for us. Every aspect of the retreat was so perfect, except one – the food. It was tragic to me that in a setting where so much attention had been dedicated to the schedule and execution of events, food was seemingly considered an afterthought. With no dedicated chef present, the retreat assistants would scurry into the kitchen between activities and heat up an array of packaged Trader Joe’s foods that were uninspiring and in no way contributing to the transformational work that was unfolding that week. Dinners of pasta with canned sauce and iceberg lettuce salad were a total bummer after deep heart-bursting sharings each afternoon.

My practice at that retreat became one of gratitude, learning to accept each meal without judgment or expectation. I can’t say I always succeeded. At the end of the retreat, I provided feedback to the organizers about the quality of the food and how it seemed to me that meals were a missed opportunity to foster the inner blooming that was taking place in our circle.

Two months following that retreat, I made the leap to ditch my sociology PhD program, with nothing more than a vague intention to somehow dedicate my livelihood to something to do with food and yoga.

Within a few weeks, I’d met someone in need of a chef for day retreats in Sonoma County. As soon as I heard the word retreat, I remember a big inner resounding YES pulsating through every cell of my being. From the first humble retreat lunch I prepared, to the multi-day extravaganzas I’ve been part of in all corners of the world, nothing excites me more and lets me feel more purposeful than providing food to support inner transformation.

Showing up to a retreat, no matter the theme or setting, is always an act of courage.  It’s normal for retreatants to arrive with at least some degree of anxiety or uncertainty. The quality of a meal can help ground participants, help them to feel safe and like they’ve fully arrived. Each meal at a retreat is an opportunity to support the deeper transformative process that is unfolding on the mat or in circle. I am forever grateful for the science of Ayurveda and her wisdom, which empowers me to create menus that nurture retreat participants both physically and more subtly.

I am blessed that so many groups each year trust me to provide the gift of nourishment for them, and contribute to the their collective transformation in this way.

This evening, someone asked me if I ever get tired of hearing how much my food is appreciated. I had to say no, because every compliment is a reminder that I am living my purpose, in action.

I’m grateful to the women of Wild Roots Sacred Wings for holding the space for me to remember how I got here, and to feel my purpose perfectly fulfilled. Thank you for letting me nourish you – you nourished me on so many levels as well. <3

Your Mind is Like A Smoke Alarm

This morning I awoke to prepare breakfast at a retreat center, and was surprised by how many people were up at 6 a.m.  As it turns out, one of the smoke alarms was chirping, giving most people in the house an early wake-up call. The alarm became a topic of conversation as retreatants sipped their morning tea and coffee. They were clearly annoyed and disappointed in being robbed of a precious opportunity to sleep in a little before 7 a.m. meditation.

As I listened to the conversations, I had the thought that our minds are a lot like smoke alarms. As humans, we often are consumed by repetitive thoughts, many of which are unproductive and often self-critical, and can become annoyances in our daily lives, slowing us down in our creative processes and self-growth. Yet, many of us keep listening to them, again and again, which is akin to letting a smoke alarm chirp for hours or days upon end.

I think some of it comes down to a belief that our thoughts are out of our control. Meditation, mindfulness practice and self-inquiry teach us there is another way. Being able to identify a thought that doesn’t serve us, and proactively taking steps to quiet it – whether through deep breathing, walking meditation, or other techniques – is like taking the time and effort to change the smoke alarm battery.

Trying to quiet our minds by giving in to cravings, addictions or unconscious habits is like the makeshift solutions we try when the smoke alarm is sounding – jiggling it around, pushing various buttons – which might offer some short-term quietude, but ultimately the noise starts back up. Some of us disconnect the alarm or remove the old batteries to get the sound to stop, but then the alarm doesn’t provide any function. This is likely completely numbing out our mind so that we enter a stupor, unable to tend to our life demands.

When you notice a repetitive thought, let it be a wake up call, a call to action. Find techniques that work, and change the batteries in your mind. If you were to put new batteries in your smoke alarm and it kept chirping, you would assume a battery was bad and try another one. If the same thoughts return, change the battery again, maybe trying another technique that you know has the power to bring you to a calm place.

 And just like smoke alarms require maintenance (we’re told to check them every couple months), find routine practices you can do – daily or weekly – that cultivate the same sense of peace in your mind.  In the same way you’re unlikely to ever hear the low-battery signal in your smoke alarm if you’ve changed the batteries regularly, a regular meditation or mindfulness practice helps to eliminate the repetitive thought cycles we get caught up in.

Unlike so many things that are beyond our control – traffic, other people’s reactions and so on, thankfully both smoke alarms and our minds can be tamed with ease. Be grateful the ability to quiet your mind is just a breath away – no ladders needed.