Participation Optional

Even though we in the developed world are relatively free, we’re still socialized to go along with the crowd. Today’s reminder is that participation is optional. Today I invite you to opt out when you don’t want to do something.

Opt out of being weighed at the doctor’s office. Did you know it’s optional? You can simply say “I pass” and if they pressure you, and you don’t feel you have a choice, you can step on the scale backwards and say “I don’t want to know the number, it’s not useful to me.”

Opt out of allowing your child to have their BMI measured at school. Seriously. Let’s stop this early weight stigmatization and use of this most meaningless measurement.

Opt of out the pervasive “I’m so bad, I ate a piece of bread” conversations. If the people around you are gib gabbing about their latest diet, weight loss success or failure you can: change the topic, explain that you don’t partake in ‘diet culture’, or even say “You know how some people don’t talk about religion or politics because it causes conflict, well, I don’t talk dieting.” And leave it at that. You do not have to participate in or respond to every conversation you’re invited to.

Opt out of "Operation Get Bikini Body Ready". You already have a bikini body, whether you want to wear one or not. This summer is not something to dread. The beach is not something to starve or slave for. Opt out.

Opt out of the hysteria over eating clean and of the diet fad (aka “lifestyle change”) of the moment. Just because “all the cool kinds are doing it” doesn’t mean it’s good for you (or them) and you have every right to opt out without any guilt.

Opt out of any yoga or exercise class that doesn’t feel welcoming to you and your body. As a wise friend of mine once said about bad yoga classes: “Treat them like a bad movie and walk out.”

On that note, opt out of the "free" body fat scan that comes with your new gym membership. When it comes to movement, you and your body deserve to feel welcomed, accepted, and met. Anything less is a great opportunity to opt out.

Opt out of seeing any medical practitioner who brings weight stigma into their practice. Increasingly you have choice and more and more there are medical professionals who understand the harm of weight-stigma and scientific validity of the Health at Every Size paradigm. Don’t like your doctor? Afraid to go see them because of the weight shaming comments they've made? Opt out.

Opt out of television shows (I’m looking at you Biggest Loser), magazines (I’m looking at you Shape Magazine), and other media that leave you feeling less than. Turn them off, unsubscribe, and go enjoy entertainment that respect you and everyone.

Bottom line: you are free. You can say “No” and “No Thank You” and “No Fucking Way.”

Even if you feel like the odd one out, no one ever regrets doing what feels right and true to them.

Participation is truly optional.

Sola Dosis Facit Venenum

I love television.

That might be a bit taboo to say, but it’s true. I get an enormous amount of pleasure from watching my favorite shows.

And there is nothing wrong with loving television. It gives me a tremendous amount of joy, laughter, and relaxation. Put simply, it feeds me. Most of the time. I can also use TV as a tool for avoiding life when checking in, not out, is would serve me most. A while back I noticed my viewing habits detracting more than helping and no surprise my first thought was “I’m going to just give up TV. Go cold turkey. Block Netflix from my computer. Commit to reading a book a week....” Yes, my initial response was to go on a diet. But the problem for me in this case wasn’t television, but the amount and the way I was using television.

Sola dosis facit venenum.

This translates to: The dose makes the poison.

I learned of this principle in graduate school. We were taught that everything in the world is medicine and everything is poison, depending on the dose. This idea is a pretty radical in a world that loves to categorize most things into ‘good’ and ‘bad’.

Organic local apples = pure goodness.
Wonder Bread = bad, devoid of any value.

But it’s not that simple. It never is. You can eat enough apples to make you sick. You can enjoy a sandwich on Wonder Bread without any negative consequence. And this rule, "The dose makes the poison", extends beyond food to include everything we take in: relationships and people, music, television, movies, alone and social time, time in the sun, and so forth. With everything there is a tipping point where it goes from serving us to taking away from us. Herein lies the delicate balance of self-care. It’s easy to make blanket statements like “Get rest” or “Move your body” but at what point is sleep or physical activity no longer of service?

We can’t say, can we?
Or rather, we can’t say for anyone but ourselves in a given moment.

There are no rules here. There are no formulas. And what works for us at one point can change in a moment. We might have spent months exhaustively working on a fulfilling project and then run out of steam. So we turn to a period of restoration, but without mindfulness the even rest can turn excessive when it’s not longer what we need or what serves us. Oh how we love an all or nothing scenario though. Our black and white oriented brains get a hit of calm when we (attempt to) draw a hard line in the sand. This is the rush that comes with the start of a diet or a rigid commitment to be in bed by 10 pm, every single night. We love the boundary—until we don’t.

We spring back from the hard line, rebel against the confines of our tightrope-of-a-plan in part because the things that we think are poison, are also medicine when served up in a different dose.

A warm, carb-filled meal after a long day. An extra two hours of sleep. A marathon of our favorite television show when shutting the world out is sometimes, even often, just what’s called for. Nothing's all bad, or all good, as much as our reductionistic minds would like to make them out to be. There is a time and place for just about every thing. So what are we to do when the very same thing can turn from serving us to detracting from us in a day?

We forget perfection and stop chasing purity. Outside of a newborn baby, purity and perfection don’t exist. When we try too hard to eat perfect, look perfect, and be perfect we end up cutting ourselves off from life and from things that, in certain doses, are really do serve us.

We pay attention. Diets, even those that restrict television and not food, allow us to be on a sort of autopilot. When we’re on one we don’t have to think or feel, we just have to follow the rules. But, to live our lives free and well we have to pay attention and make choices.

We find the kind choice. If nothing is all good or all bad, we have to inquire moment-by-moment what the kind choice is. Sometimes not doing the thing is kind. Sometimes doing the thing is kind. By following kindness we find our way in a world where nothing is just black and white.

Lastly, we double check our knee-jerk reactions. Notice what you label as good or bad without question. What gets a knee-jerk green light from you? What gets a red light?

Sola dosis facit venenum.

The Illusion of the Bottomless Pit

"I am never full."

"The pain will never stop."

"There isn’t ever enough love."

"I will never not want to eat the entire grocery store."

---

Many of us walk around with the sensation of deep emptiness.

With that sensation often comes a fierce belief that there will never be enough.

Be it food or love—too often we walk the earth feeling as though we are a bottomless pit.

One strategy we use is to try to fill it. With entire bags of chips. With another pair of shoes. With 5 o’clock bottles of wine.

On the flip side, we might attempt to cover the bottomless pit with the story that we have minimal needs. This where we tell ourselves we’re fine to subsist on crumbs—literal or metaphoric. We keep it together. We don’t need a partner, or attention, or carbs, we’re fine—or so we tell ourselves.

The sad part is the bottomless pit is an illusion. One that has us running in all directions for temporary salves that aren’t sustainable and never leave us feeling very satisfied.

Imagine this:

Your local child protective services agency has shown up at your doorstep with two foster children you are charged with taking care of for a year. They tell you that the children came from a home where there was barely anything to eat.

Over the first few days you notice that one of the children eats until they are sick. They eat quickly and with an anxiety that clearly belays their fear of there not being having enough.

The other child eats very little. Nibbling on this or that but not taking enough sustenance or enjoying the delicious food you have offered. This child is attempting to exert some control where they can. When they wasn’t enough in the past, they told themselves that they didn’t need it as a way to feel a level of control where none was.

And all of this makes sense.

Neither of them can be sure that there will be enough. They can’t yet trust that there will be more food anytime they want, and that they don’t have to eat until they're sick or continue to deny themselves nourishment.

What you find over the weeks to come though, as they learn that there is enough food and they can have as much as they want, when they want, in any quantity they want, is that they normalize. They are each able to eat with enjoyment, relaxation, and able to stop when they are physically sated.

Our lives are the home where there will always be enough food.

The question is whether we are willing to heal the trauma of our deprivation by ceasing to deny ourselves. It is we who too often deny ourselves the love we long for. It is we who too often deny ourselves the food or pleasure we hunger for.

The result is that we feel like a bottomless pit.

And all along we had our hand on our own spigot able to turn it on and let it flow.

The trick is to turn the spigot on and don’t turn it off until we’ve had enough. We can only find the point of ‘enough’ after a period of reconditioning ourselves to know that there will always be more.

We must let it flow long enough to teach the part of us that is traumatized from deprivation that there will always be enough. What we find when we do this is that that part of us relaxes.

What we find is that the bottomless pit, the one that never existed in the first place, disappears.

A Weightless Year

Fact: my coaching clients send the nicest cards.

Fact: this card moved me to tears.

Dear Sweet Rachel,

It was exactly one year ago that you and I had a one-on-one. You may or may not remember that you presented me with a challenge. The challenge was to not weigh myself for one year. I remember at the time being overwhelmed with the challenge, especially given that I had purchased a scale several weeks before our chat. But after our call I made the decision to trust the process and stay away from weighing myself. So here we are, a year later, and to date I haven’t stepped on the scale. I just wanted to thank you – this past year has been quite the journey and I’ve just barely begun. I am grateful for you, your dedication to the work that God has designed you for!

xoxo

It’s updates like this that reinvigorate me and rekindle my fire for calling us forth into Well-Fed living.

I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating: what we weigh is useless information. It tells us nothing of value. Just about everything worth knowing comes from inside of us. Knowing our weight is rarely ever about well-being. We step on the scale to measure our worth, to gauge how out of control we are (or feel) in our lives, and to help us make decisions we’re afraid to let our bodies make.

If you didn’t know what you weighed, what would happen? How would you know when to eat and when to stop eating? How would you know when to move your body and when to rest? How would you know if you were enough or too much?

You would listen. Ear to yourself and you’d hear “Feast. Rest. Trust.”

You would listen. Ear to your heart and you’d hear “You are enough, never more, never less.”

The scale takes you away from yourself. Giving it up brings you home.

The Five Languages of Body Love

Have you heard of The Five Love Languages?

I’m guessing yes given the best-seller status of the book, but if not, here’s the rundown.

Gary Chapman, the author, posits that there are five ways that we can show love to each other, and especially toward a romantic partner: through gifts, quality time, words of affirmation, act of service, and physical touch.

The idea is that each of us has a dominant love language, or way we are best able to receive love. If our partner shows their love in a language we don’t ‘speak’ well then we might end up feeling uncared for or unloved. The trick, Chapman argues, is to understand each others love language and do our best to communicate accordingly. Some people feel loved when they are given quality time while others interpret physical touch or gifts as an affirmative signs.

I think this theory has a lot of value AND I think we need to take it with a big grain of salt. I’m not sure that love can be simplified so easily, but it’s valuable to note that we all experience it uniquely.

Switching subjects for a minute, let's talk about our bodies and how we feel about them. It's a pretty body-unfriendly swamp that we're swimming in. Everywhere you look are shame-inducing messages, overt and subliminal, targeted at our natural and diverse forms.

As a life coach and woman who seeks to practice self-acceptance and respect, I know just how much our relationship with our body determines how fulfilling our life is overall. Seriously, what's possible for a woman who is body-respectful is two-fold to what's possible to those ensnared in body-loathing.

So what does body love and The Five Languages of Love have to do with each other?

A lot. I’ve noticed that there are periods when we either communicate with our body through only one language or not through the language our body is asking us to love it through. To explore this further, here are the questions I began to ask myself and that you might find useful.

Gifts

Do I give my body gifts? Do I find yourself making kind purchases with my body’s care in mind? What’s the last gift I gave my body?

Quality Time

Do I give my body my time? Do I leave space in my life for my body to be heard and cared for? When is the last time I spent quality time with my body?

Words of Affirmation

Do I speak kindly towards my body? Are the messages I surround my body with respectful and/or loving? What’s the last generous and sweet thing I said to my body?

Acts of Service

Do I consider myself my body’s advocate and caregiver? When was the last time I went out of my way to do something for my body?

Physical Touch

Do I lay my hands on my own flesh? Do I do so with love? Do I provide my body with opportunities for caring and loving touch from another? When was the last time my body felt that it had been touched “enough” or to the point of “fullness”?

This line of inquiry was powerful for me and it opened me up to all the ways I could expand my body-love practice. So interesting to see where we easily give love and where we have blind spots. If you want to communicate your body through a broader range of love languages, here are a few ideas:

Gifts

Purchase a foam roller and use it to loosen up with myofacial release.

Treat your body to a coveted care product, be it lotion, massage oil, or scented soap.

Offer your body clothing that makes you feel good, comfortable, and stylish.

Quality Time

Dedicate 10 minutes in the morning to scanning your body with presence and curiosity.

Allow your body to write you a letter in your journal.

Take a nap, regularly.

Words of Affirmation

Commit to one day of body-respectful talk towards yourself.

Put up affirming words on your walls, bathroom mirror, or refrigerator door.

Come up with a mantra to recite every time you are feeling anything less than loving towards your body.

Acts of Service

Advocate for your body to another. Make a request. Make your body’s desires known.

Cook for your body. Prepare food that delights all your senses and your belly.

Take your body to see the doctor or dentist for a routine check-up.

Physical Touch

Massage yourself with sesame oil after a shower.

Try out a new type of bodywork, such as craniosacral or Thai massage.

Make love to yourself or with a partner.

The trick here, if this inquiry interests you, is to explore what makes your body feel loved?

Terms of Endearment

I want to show you something. There’s this amazing transformation I’ve been witness to. I wish I could show it to you. What I want to capture is what happens to a woman’s face, body, and whole being when I ask her to identify a meaningful and resonate term of endearment for herself.

As part of some retreats that I’ve lead, after delving into our inner critic, I have each woman identify and share a name for herself that elicits love, safety, and adoration.

First they journal to themselves, listing all the names that might be fit. Tossing out the ones that feel cloying or inauthentic. Considering the things only their inner circle calls them or perhaps a childhood nickname. They weigh “Lovely” with “Beloved” and “Sweetheart” with “Sweetness.”

They are looking for the moment their body says “Yes. that’s it. That’s us. Let’s curl up with that one.” Many of them know they’ve found their term of endearment when tears well in their eyes.

I’ve heard it all, from "My Love" to "Darling" or "Pumpkin." From "Cookie" to "Sarah-Loo" or "Babygirl."

There’s a name for everyone that calls us home.

Once they’ve got it, we go around the room and share. As we move from feeling our patterns of self-abuse to the healing that comes from self-kindness, the women I work with change right before my eyes. It’s a pretty remarkable thing to watch. They change and the room changes. What had been a circle of sadness, grief, and angst becomes one of delight, compassion, and understanding.

Having a name, rooted in love, to call ourselves gives us a foothold. When we’re in pain or feeling disconnected all we need to is reach for this name and it brings us back. It's a name that embraces us.

Having a term of endearment for ourselves helps to build safety and intimacy in the most important relationship we’ll ever have: us with ourselves. me with me. you with you.

If you want to experience the power of this practice, next time you catch yourself with a self-directed whip in your hand, next time you’re body is contracted from shame or insecurity, go find a mirror and greet yourself.

Look into your own eyes and call out the name that only means “I love you. Yes, you. I love you”

You're Not Needy, You're Starving

You are not needy. You are starving.

A while back I was working with a client and we began to talk about the prospect of her finding a post-divorce relationship.

She shared her fear that she’d be too needy.

I’ve heard this before. Many times.

And I say: NO. You are not needy, you’re starving.

This client had a 5 year old boy.

I explained it to her like this...

If her son skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then said “Mommy, I’m too needy for food.” I know she’d reply:

“No sweetheart, you aren’t needy at all, you’re very hungry. You haven't gotten what you need. Now let’s get you something delicious to eat.”

Something about this needy feeling has us feeling like it’s bottomless, insatiable. That no matter how much we “eat” we’ll never be fed.

Not so. I speak from experience. Mine and many of my clients.

Yes, it feels like we’ll never get enough.  Just like, when we are starving for food, at first, we think we really could eat the whole kitchen. Not so in either case.

We can find satiation. Here are just a few things I often hear women saying they are too needy for:

love, being seen (often confused with attention), touch (the way they uniquely like it), affection + adoration, being desired, a circle of women friends, companionship, being listened to + feeling understood, validation…

You’re not needy. You’re starving.

You certainly do not want for too much.

These are all entirely normal, natural, its-your-birth-right, your-parents-probably-didn’t-give-you-enough things.

So you’re starving.

That’s okay.

You can begin there. Begin bit by bit. or bite by bite.

Begin by renaming this 'neediness' with a more accurate term: hunger.

Begin by asking for what you want.

Begin by honoring your hunger and by feeding yourself.

Begin by receiving the cravings with kindness, instead of shame.

This hunger of yours. It’s so very wise.

You’re not needy. You’re simply starving.

Now darling, let’s get you something delicious to eat.

Note: I use the word ‘starving’ here to refer to often first-world emotional deprivation. Not to be confused with actual lack of nutrition needed for physical survival, which is a very real problem in our world.

In Praise of Safety

Social media abounds with images of softly lit, sunrise horizons with the words "Life begins at the end of your comfort zone" emblazoned across the sky. Or perhaps it's a mountain peak behind text that says "A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for."

I believe life begins inside of our comfort zones and only when we feel safe enough to stretch out does life (and our comfort zone) expand.

I am simply a huge fan of everyone feeling safe and I think safety has become linked up with weakness.

In contrast, I have seen how safety allows us to blossom. I believe that feeling safe is a prerequisite for connection, learning, relationship, growth, and for feeding our hungers. The only time I have ever been able to heal or grow is when I first felt safe. The only times I’ve been able to hear my own hungers calling for me is when I created a safe space for them. The only times when I’ve been able to ask another to feed me is when I feel safe with them.

It’s true that we often want or need to do things that aren’t safe or don’t feel safe. Taking the stage. Quitting the job. Asking someone out on a date. Trying something new and unknown. It’s my experience though, that we have to feel a level of safety first. It’s also my experience that many of us tolerate lives, situations, and relationships in which we are not safe to be who we are, want what we want, and say what we think and feel. This needs to change.

Needing safety does not a weak person make. It’s okay to value safety. In fact, it's imperative. It’s okay to ask someone to create a safer space for you. It’s okay to remove yourself when you don’t feel safe. When we feel safe enough, we can sail away from the harbor.

I'll leave you with a few questions for us to ponder:

Where in my life don’t I feel safe?

What factors create a sense of safety for me?

What would change if I felt a greater level of safety to be who I am, want what I want, and say what I think and feel?

Who don’t I feel safe around?

Who could I offer more safety to?

How could I offer myself more safety from which I could try new things?

Where am I pushing myself too far outside of my safety zone?

May we all be safe.

Meditations for Sunrise & Sunset

I used to teach a course called Ease Hunting: Six Weeks of Discovering Every Exhale. The program included lessons, live calls, an ease scavenger hunt, expert interviews, and two guided audio meditations all aimed at supporting the hunters in discovering an easeful way of being, no matter what life was throwing their way. It was truly beautiful. One participant described it as "A yoga class for your mind."

The Ease Hunting course isn't offered anymore but each of us continues to seek ease in our own ways. In support of your hunt I'm sharing the two Ease Hunting meditations. These recordings, one for morning and one for evening, are simple 10 minute opportunities to recenter and rest. They were among the Ease Hunters favorite parts of their experience. Here are a few of their words:

"I've been using the PM mediation every day, and I'm going to keep using it. I loved that I could download the meditations onto my phone. That made it easy to listen to them on the go and also as I was falling asleep. Doing 15 minutes every day has definitely impacted my ease levels."

"I liked having the meditations as a go-to if I needed them...when I did need them, they were both helpful and I'm grateful to have them as a tool in my toolbox. There was one morning in particular where I was fretting, and I said "ah, we have a tool for this: AM meditation." I did it, and the fretting subsided and made way for some ease."

If you're needing a little more ease in your life or a supportive, simple way to start and end your day, here is my gift to you.

In Praise of Zoloft

Years ago, when I would run into people I hadn’t seen in a while they would often remark that while I was still myself, I was so much more relaxed and at ease than they recalled.

The reason for this is because for much of my life I lived with a base level of anxiety. For me that manifested as: vague constant dis-ease/worry, insomnia, sporadic panic attacks, being overly controlling of others (as a means to soothe myself), and an eating disorder (also to soothe myself). While I had all these symptoms, I was entirely functional – able to hold down a good job, earn my masters degree, and have close and healthy friendships. And while my anxiety was somewhat normal if you looked at TV or movies, it was also exhausting.

So how did I get to today where life feels pretty easeful and I’m relatively at home in my own skin – even when life is hard? I sewed a patchwork quilt. One square at a time of information, experience, aides, and awareness. Each person’s path out of chronic anxiety (or depression) is unique and there ought not be any judgement about one’s choices on the journey. No one road works for all and what matters is that quilt square come together to forms something that works. I released any shame I had about mental illness. I worked with some talented and wise psychotherapists and coaches that felt great to be in the room with. I attended a 10-month Dialectical Behavioral Therapy skills group. I seriously think the DBT skills should be a mandatory part of public education. I practiced and pondered mindfulness. I found meditation groups. I read. I got quiet. I practiced and pondered compassion and loving-kindness. I connected. I stopped isolating myself with the idea that I couldn’t show others that I was struggling. I reached out. I was real with others. I stopped creating a life where I only let my flaws hang out when I was alone. I stopped pretending like I had it all together, because I didn’t and that kind of isolation will kill anyone. I paid attention to what worked and what didn’t work for me. I learned I have a lot of HSP characteristics. I learned I do better working for myself. I learned that taking long afternoon naps and putting my needs first leads to happier days, happier friends, and happier clients. I took a hard look at my family. I saw that the parent I shared so many traits with had anxious tendencies themself – markers that I might have inherited some of what I was experiencing.

And I started taking Zoloft (generic name Sertraline).

I named this post ‘In praise of Zoloft’ because I think my decision to take medication to treat my anxiety is actually the most unique part of my story. While millions of people around the world are medicated for mood disorders, I was an unlikely candidate. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area where there’s an acupuncturist on every corner. I earned my Master’s degree in Holistic Health Education where I took courses in stress reduction and relaxation, Ayurveda, and nutrition. I meditated. I ate greens. I went to yoga class. I was primed to take an “all natural” and alternative approach to my anxiety.

But for me, many years ago, the floor finally dropped out of my life and Zoloft got me on solid ground. I’m lucky in that I’ve not experienced one side effect from taking it and I feel like myself, only more even keel. I’m still creative. I still feel all my emotions and cry as needed. I still have worries. I think as clearly as I always have, perhaps more so. It’s just that a dose each day makes my life much better.

Anxiety and depression are certainly aspects to spiritual awakening and I wish more people would look there first. That said, I had experienced symptoms my entire life and Zoloft has played a significant role in getting me where I wanted to go. I believe that medication is not for everyone (though meditation probably is). I believe that Zoloft is not the medication for everyone (consult a professional please). I firmly believe, truly, to each their own. But I wanted to share some of my story so others could see that taking advantage of modern medicine isn’t a failure and it won’t turn you into a zombie. And sometimes, it might just give you back your life.

Vitamin P

Pleasure is a food group.

We need servings of it every single day. And most of us aren’t getting it. We’re malnourished of Vitamin P. We’re actually starving for pleasure. By taking care of everyone else. By striving to be loved, liked, approved of, to be the ‘good’ girl, to be the ‘bad’ girl. By seeking to numb ourselves and distract from what's here. It’s exhausting, we're exhausted, and all this clouds out pleasure. We don’t receive pleasure when we do ‘shoulds’, have ‘to do’s, or when we try to fit in, suck it up, suck it in. Low carb and pureed kale. Shoes so uncomfortable they make you want to cut your big toe off. The job that looks good on paper. Faking it in all the many ways we do. Denying our self what we truly hunger for. This is where so many of us live and this is a pleasure desert.

What we need is to feel good. To feel delicious. To feed our our five senses. For me lounging in bed. It’s turning my face to the sunrise. It’s a steaming mug of chai. It’s a skilled massage. It’s face oil that smells sweet. It’s practicing seeing beauty in every person. It’s sudden laugh attacks. It’s playing bingo at the senior center. It’s clean sheets. It’s ranunculus. It’s bearded wirey dogs. It’s dancing with my daughter. It’s the smell of creosote in the desert after it rains. It’s a firm mattress. It’s the rare day where I do absolutely nothing. My five senses and your five senses require pleasure.

Pleasure is quite simply a daily medicine needed for living well and being full.

And we need to be intentional about it. Not just taking what crumbs of pleasure come our way. We need to live has sensualists. We must treat pleasure like we do drinking water - essential and something we don't apologize for needing.

Think of how your life might be different if you got a mega-dose of pleasure every day? Would you have more bounce in yours step? More radiant energy? Less tension in your muscles? What if you asked yourself each night before you go to sleep: “What will please me tomorrow?” What if you started each day by asking yourself: “What would please me right now?" Or "How can what I wear today bring me pleasure?", "How can what I eat today be a full-on pleasurable experience?", and "Is the music I'm listening to releasing my endorphins?" Ask yourself: "How can the everyday moments in my life, the ones that string together to form what we call “busy” be pleasurable?" Moments like taking a shower. Like getting dressed or eating breakfast. Moments like driving in the car. Start small (or big). Eat pleasure. Listen to pleasure. Feel pleasure. Smell pleasure. Look at pleasure. Surround yourself and infuse your life with pleasure. This is a life with luster and this is a big part of what makes life worth living.

Pleasure teaches us that life doesn't have to feel like swimming up stream. I used to think it did. I used think that toxic levels of stress, a wildly abusive inner critic, and days spent striving for perfection were normal and what life was all about. No. More. With pleasure as my carrot I don't need a stick. And neither do you.

Stuck on what you’d find pleasurable? Don’t use your head. Use your body. Like a homing beacon just continue to tune into what FEELS good.

Cake for Breakfast

“Do you see a distinction between healthy hungers and unhealthy hungers?” a podcast host asked me years ago.

“Give me an example of an unhealthy hunger?” I said.

“Like, I’m hungry in the morning and so yes, I am going to have that cake, I want the whole thing!” she replied with a slightly giddy laugh at the thought of this devious act.

I smiled and said “I don’t think cake for breakfast is a bad thing. Are you connecting or disconnecting? Are you moving closer to your Self or farther away from your Self?"

That's the difference between a one hunger and another hunger: does it move you closer or further away from your Self? Does it connect you to your Self or disconnect you from your Self?”

It’s that simple. And, yes, it’s that complex...in that you can’t just follow prescribed rules of good foods and bad foods. Or good portion sizes and bad portion sizes. Or good times to eat and bad times to eat. Or good cooking methods and bad cooking methods. Or good food sources and bad food sources.

You have stay present. You have to listen inward. You have to remove judgement’s place at the table. Is this hunger moving me towards my Self or away? Listen. Ask. Allow. Allow. Allow. Feed yourself.

There is no reason that cake for breakfast can’t be the most nourishing act in the world.

This applies, of course, to hungers for things other than food. Hungers to quit your job. Hungers to buy something shiny and new. Hungers to be with friends. Hungers to be intimate. Hungers to wait. Hungers to go. Hungers to stay. Hungers to run away. or towards.

Which direction are you moving?