FOODFOODFOODFOODFOOD…

This is your brain on Thanksgiving!

We are planning menus around it.  We are shopping for it.  We are spending countless hours preparing it.  We take painstaking details in decorating the table for it.  We spend hours cleaning up after the meal and, oh yes, we spend about an hour eating it.  Unless you count the “just a little more” and the picking, and the sandwiches and leftovers.  But don’t despair, after a day of black Friday shopping, we begin planning to do the same thing over again a few weeks later.

Then, of course, there’s the whole other issue of counting calories, fat grams, carbs, points, and all the associated guilt that pours over us like gravy over mashed potatoes.  We fill up on angst long before the turkey even goes into the oven over what we can eat, what we shouldn’t eat, what we can substitute eat instead of what we really want to eat.

Yes, Thanksgiving food obsession syndrome.  It’s exhausting, confusing, and unhealthy when taken to extremes.  I’d like to offer you a bit of freedom, if I may.

It’s one day, one meal.  And I have a confession to make – yes, a health/life coach and wellness advocate is about to admit to you that…. I don’t worry about the food I prepare or cook on this special day.  I use real butter.  Real sour cream.  Real raw sugar (no, still won’t do white bleached sugar).  I make gravy and use it liberally over mashed potatoes.  And stuffing.  With cranberry sauce.  And did I mention I eat pie?  Yes, it’s that bad.  I eat the dessert.  And the one dishes I don’t serve?  Guilt, shame and regret.

Let me explain.

I do my very best to take good care of my body on a daily basis.  I eat clean.  I choose healthy, organic products to fuel what the Lord has given to me.  I practice mindful, intentional eating most of the time (because yes, I still have the occasional battle with emotional eating and I don’t always win).  I exercise.  I drink lots of water.  And as a person who struggled for years with anorexia and bulimia, I want balance and peace with my food.  Because obsessively thinking of and planning for food reminds me too much of what my life used to be like.  I just want to make eating no more or less important than any other activity in my life.  Don’t’ get me wrong – I love food, and I am grateful for well-honed taste buds that help me enjoy every single morsel I put into my mouth.  I just don’t want it to become a central player in a life that has so many other wonderful components to it.  But by the same token, life is too short not to enjoy a good meal.

So…

I am careful in my portions.  I balance my plate with one half veggies/greens, one quarter starch/carb, and one quarter protein.  I use a smaller plate, giving myself permission to go back for seconds – but only if I am truly hungry, not just because of taste – and then I wait five minutes more, just to be sure I really am still hungry.  I eat slowly, with smaller bites, so I can enjoy the flavors and textures of my meal.  I purposely put my utensils down when I chew so I won’t keep stuffing the food in my face as if I won’t get any more.  Besides, chipmunk cheeks aren’t really a good look for me.  If I want dessert on Thanksgiving, I have some.  If there are two pies I can’t decide upon, I may even have a slice of both.  But my slices will be very small (even though my brain says, “Take the whole pie!”) and I will eat them with appreciation and delight.  I eat while noticing how filled I am becoming, remembering that it takes 20 minutes for the brain to register “FULL!” to the stomach.  I remember the discomfort of being overfull and choose instead to leave the gobbling to the surviving turkeys.

I will instead feast on the company of those around the table with me.  I will relish in their stories, dine on their laughter, which is always so much sweeter than any offerings on the menu.  And I will end each meal with a heart full of gratitude and thanksgiving!

Bon Appetit, my friends!