There is poison all around me. Seems as if everything I eat has some negative belief associated with it. Don’t drink coffee. I look at the cup this morning and wonder whether the fact that I cut back to two cups is enough. I wonder whether the chemicals used on this non-organic coffee will be found to be horrible for all of us coffee addicts. Anything that feels like comfort food is always bad so the “comfort” is short-lived for thinking people. These oils are the only good ones, the animals I eat are raised in horrible conditions (do I want THAT energy in my body?), heaven help you if you eat ground beef made from 10 different cows and countries, organic produce from Salinas and bought from my local organic farm had e coli last year. Now it is wheat. I love bread and pasta. That too? All these people I know are avoiding gluten or dairy or whatever. They are told, and maybe it is true, that they have allergies to those foods. I realized lately that I don’t feel completely safe eating any food. There is always a subtle whisper about each one, telling me why it may be hurting me.
The poison is in the words too. The poison in the pens is erasing the love for the food I eat and maybe the grace and nourishment that I need. Who benefits by making us hate our food? Is it that we are Americans, privileged, so much richer than others in the world that we feel guilty about having food itself? We seem to be filling the existential vacuum with bottles of fake sweet drinks and excessive mountains of food many times a day. What is all this about? What is the antidote?
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I think you totally tap into something here - a common debate so many of us have whenever we have to decide what to put in our mouths. I love the 'subtle whisper about each one, telling me why it may be hurting me.' It's a perfect way to sum up the feeling.
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