I feel like throwing up…literally. Reverse to two hours ago when I sat at the dining room table ferociously eating the americanized version of Chinese food: fry chicken with fry rice…and French Fries. Okay, I know: this sucks! I am living a life of contradictions– yoga/meditations and then putting all that junk in my tummy. I feel awful, physically and emotionally. I woke up this morning, did yoga and meditated. I ended up at the park and even hugged a tree (!) with my nephew. In the morning, I barely ate and then as the evening rolled around I found myself– with my sister– heading to the chines restaurant.
When we arrived home and as I was eating the food, I realized how I was just not enjoying the food. However, I was hungry and continued to stuff my face. I still have half of my food in the kitchen–what am I going to do with the rest of it?
Although I am trying to own my role in it, something has to be said about the importance of being around people who are not into healthy living when that is your goal. Food is literally an addiction for me. I once had a friend who was addicted to drugs and with a lot of the things that he told me, I could have easily replaced the word, “drugs” for the word, “food.” The fact that I live with my family who do not see the importance of havinstock of fruits or vegetable, is difficult. This is even more difficult because I do not have a job that could finance eating entirely healthy. Just a few moments ago, I began to think of that previous line and realized that I could at least control the amount of food that entered my mouth— hello!
There is a thin line between being compassionate to oneself and being just plain ole lackadaisical about the situation—a very thin line.