Do you think about food all the time? If you’re driving a car, do you scan the horizon for your favorite food stops in between errands or doctor appointments or your work? Or, if you’ve recently lost your driver’s license, is access to food one of your chief concerns?
I didn’t realize how serious my problem with food was until my mother and my mother-in-law died within a week of each other last January. I weighed 187 pounds, which for a 5-foot-tall woman is a lot. I’d been working with a counselor who specialized in eating disorders and addiction, but my conscious intention in going there didn’t have anything to do with food. Yet there was something about losing those two mothers in my life that shifted my perspective.
“I’d better do something about the food,” I said to myself. “I might be needed.”
For me it took an addictions counselor, a 12-step group, the support of my family, and a whole lot of spiritual development to move from compulsive eating at Panera and Dunkin’ Donuts to a well-balanced, daily food plan and an 18% reduction in body weight. I know there will always be so much for me to learn from this process. My spiritual development, for one thing, has just begun.
I’m so glad, though, to be having this experience of seeking and accepting help for my private pain. This is what I mean about the joyous paradox. Because I’ve been there, I’m now able to be here. Here with myself. And here with you.
Thanks for listening, and Happy Mother’s Day,