Thankful for sense of smell!

It might seem I've forgotten about this blog. Well, recently I had good reason to remember it! Early in February, I, like a number of friends and family members, contracted the Omicron variant of Covid. (At least, I assume that's the variant!) I don't know if I contracted it from my dad (who also had Covid) or on my trip to New Orleans (where the food was absolutely incredible and would make anyone feel grateful for it... every restaurant, no matter the style of food, was excellent.)

Luckily, I'm vaccinated and boosted, and the symptoms were no worse than a bad cold or a mild flu. I took a 1/2 day off of work and was able to continue working from home for the rest of it. I still found ways to connect and socialize and enjoy life.

But one symptom didn't escape me: losing my sense of smell. As I type, I'm still recovering. It's been about 10 days since my smell vanished completely. On one hand, it just kinda felt odd. No bad smells OR good smells. I made chocolate chip pancakes for my son that morning and... nothing. Normally I relish the sensation that pervades the whole downstairs with the fried dough smell. Instead, a stolen chocolate chip just tasted like wax.

The worst part of it was how minor it seemed. I was able to function in pretty much every other way. Even to myself, it felt like so much whining in a world where people are dying or having more debilitating long-term effects from Covid.

But I also realized that smell is so very important to all the pleasures in life, especially with food. Even bad smells matter in the full experience of life (How weird not really knowing if I needed a shower... don't worry! I took daily showers anyway.) I felt emotionally disconnected somehow.

Being a congenital over-worrier, I started to imagine the scenario in which I would never regain my sense of smell. It felt completely dreadful. I made a point to more deeply focus on the things that I could taste (chili and peanut butter were still fine for some reason), and then to keep eating the things I know I liked that I couldn't taste. I knew that the loss of smell from Covid is likely related to nerve damage, or nerve-supporting cells in the nose. I also knew (thanks random college neuroscience class!) that brain/nerve mapping was important to continue being able to distinguish scents. So it was worth trying... kinda like yelling into a barely working phone so that you can stay connected to someone.

During all this worrying, I also felt very glad for the times that I DID savor the foods I ate (and other smells of life). Almost like meta-gratitude for having felt thankful in the past. Luckily for me, I had more reasons to feel grateful as I slowly, slowly re-gained a little bit of smell each day. I made a habit of going through all the spices and such in my pantry and fridge. Cinnamon yes, sage no, vanilla yes, ginger no. Often, what I could newly smell was very faint, like just a memory of a smell. Each time I discovered a re-gained a scent was a feeling of true joy. And oddly, a re-connection to emotions that sometimes felt overwhelming. Cilantro had been a long hold-out, which was upsetting because I absolutely LOVE cilantro. Last night I splurged on a little plant of it in soil. I took it home and tore off a leaf, washed it carefully and stuck it right in my mouth and chewed. And there it was... that familiar scent. Amazing!

So I still have a ways to go (being outdoors still smells really weird, like burning vinegar or something), but I have been re-acquainted with the notion to savor the things of every day. Savor life! I'm looking forward with hope to smelling the spring air. And I'm looking forward to more adventures, travels, music, people, and delicious foods! Give thanks for our sense of smell. Let us never take it for granted!

Communion

The idea of transubstantiation in the Catholic Church is something that seems kind-of odd to me. Presumably, the food actually becomes the body and blood of Christ. I don't want to critique this idea as much as explore some ways to expand it.

When I've taken communion before (in a Protestant setting, since I'm not Catholic), the thing I've noticed about it is how much attention we pay to the small piece of bread and wine or grape juice. Then I wondered what effect it would have if we could do that all the time.

When we eat, we are also literally taking in something that isn't us - it's the body of something else (plant or animal) In some ways, we could look at this as a spiritual exercise like communion. Each bite is both a gift from God and part of the body of God (in the sense that God is part of all creation).

This notion can be modified to fit with Pagan, Buddhist, or even atheist/agnostic belief systems. Communion is about being part of a community (same root word) through the ritual of eating something together. When we eat anything, it brings us into a kind of "communion" with all beings on earth.

"Real Food, Real People"

I've mentioned before the importance of remembering the human beings whose work allows us to eat every day. The farm workers who plant, tend and harvest, the factory workers who cook, package and inspect. Even the truck drivers who transport.

Who do we imagine those people are? What do they look like? What are their lives like?

Recently I encountered a label on the back of a Triscuit box that said "Real Food Made by Real People". There was a picture on the back of 5 friendly-looking white guys dressed in plaid shirts and jeans - the family farmers who grew the "silver white wheat" that went into every cracker.

The racism here is a gentle breeze when compared to the hurricane gale of cross burnings or lynchings. (But then, if you've ever been to a picnic on a breezy day, sometimes those gusts can really pick up and you suddenly have paper plates and potato chips flying everywhere... I digress. The point is, I don't think it makes sense to react with outrage as opposed to mere observation.)

"Real Food, Real people" is a kind of very subtle racism that wends it's thread-like tendrils through all of American life, including, IMO, otherwise progressive circles.

There's a notable desire for food to be "pure", or to appear so, that's old as... well, ok, at least as old as this ad for "SnowDrift shortening". Probably older than that. A desire for purity in food isn't itself an evil thing. But that kind of desire can often come from a place of fear, similar to that which underlies racism. And because they share that same root, there can be dangerous overlap if it goes unchecked. The Triscuit package makes this connection so seamlessly that it's startling.

"Real people"... somehow, we imagine the "lesser" brands of crackers - full of GMO-laced wheat, grown on vast expanses of pesticide-ridden fields and desperately poor brown migrant workers, hacking and groaning like the "un-women" from the Handmaid's Tale. Who'd want to eat that shit?

But Triscuits... Triscuits are from "real people" like your local white farmer, so they're safe. You don't have to worry about your local farmer being dirty, speaking Spanish, or playing music too loud. He's honest and fair, and worth paying the extra 50c for.

Through the lens of gratitude, it's important to be thankful for both "pure" AND "impure" food. Be grateful for the perfect strawberry and the imperfect one. Be grateful for the packaged, denatured, preservative-filled snack cake from a factory or the fair-trade chocolate cookies made from scratch by your dear friend (which one is "pure" there? You decide!). Be grateful for all the work and thought and striving that went into the creation of all these things.

And most importantly, remember that ALL people who make food are worthy of our respect. Their lives are complicated, and aspects of their farming and factory work are surely complicated, almost never some perfect ideal. Let's strive to improve conditions for ALL workers, as well as improve the quality of food that EVERYone eats.

All food is real food, made by real people.

Thankful for hunger?

Well, not extreme levels of hunger. Just the everyday, normal hunger.

One trick to avoid mindless eating is to pay close attention to when you're full. But one can also recognize that it won't be very long before hunger will strike again.

Eating more when you're already feeling full isn't that pleasant. How unfortunate if we always felt full and never fully experienced the anticipation of satiety.

This may be something to remember when you know you're feeling like you've had enough, but another part of you wants to keep going. To step back from it, and remember that soon your hunger will be a kind of blessing, increasing the enjoyment of the food you will eat in the future.

The things we lack in our lives add depth, shadow, and dimension. Without hunger there can be no true satisfaction.

Memories of healthy choices

When you eat a healthy salad, or some other nutritious choice, try not to dwell for the next few hours on how few calories you consumed. For one, it may not have been that few calories, depending on the dressing.

But even if it was low-calorie, there's a danger in being "proud" of yourself for the way you limited yourself. Because it's not necessarily your whole self that feels this way. Part of you will feel deprived, and craving for sweets or other "feel-good" foods.

Better instead to dwell on the way that the salad nourishes you. Think of the vitamins and minerals that dark-leafed lettuce, for example, provides. Imagine how your body is responding to having these good things. Not that you'll know exactly how any given ingredient factors into your overall feeling, but envisioning a positive response will go a long way toward feeling good about the healthy choice you made, and not so conflicted.

Going on about tea again

I already did a post about tea, and wondered "is it reasonable to write another post about tea?", but then I realized a) pretty much no one reads this and b) I haven't written in a while and c) who is this blog for if not myself?

This morning starts the first day of Lent, during which I am pulling back from the creeping menace of sugar. I haven't gained weight lately, but I've definitely been eating more sugar than is healthy, and have been feeling the effects.

I felt good about my choice last night - had no qualms about eating plain oatmeal or plain bread w/ butter. Then this morning came and I realized the way the habit of eating something sweet is so pernicious that it can take over your thought processes. I mean, I know I decided on "no brown sugar on my oatmeal", but did that also mean I shouldn't have sweetened yogurt? In some ways, the gratitude diet plan makes things easier b/c it makes you start from the ground up, even as that "first day" threatens to feel so "depriving:.

Anyway, all that angst-ing about whether or not to repeat the "tea" topic and I haven't even mentioned it. Well, I felt so very grateful for spearmint tea this morning. Because it gave me the sweetness I felt like I needed, and felt genuinely satisfying. My other tea choice is a cinnamon-licorice root type thing, which is also very sweet, considering it has no sugar.

Then I read something recently about licorice root having some potential side effects, and I was like "noooooooo". But here's to recognizing that nothing is perfect or simple, but finding way to savor the sweetness of things anyway.

This is a great article

http://buddiesinbadtimes.com/blog/top-5-things-to-do-instead-of-lose-weight-in-2017/

Especially advice #1: EAT WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, WHATEVER MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD AND SATIATED.

I like how it discussed fresh, clean water as both a blessing and a right.

This is a positive, healthy attitude about food.