Thursday 17 November 2016

When Food Heals & Transforms

Do we ever stop to wonder what it is that we’re feeding when we eat? It’s such a familiar activity that the question seems absurdly obvious, and yet strangely difficult to answer. Of course we’re fuelling our bodies, but it’s perhaps fair to assume that this answer is incomplete unless we still adhere to the outmoded notion of ourselves as machines. Is it that we’re nourishing ourselves? This is surely what food is for. But if this is the easily accepted answer, then does it not immediately raise another? If we eat to nourish ourselves, why are we, in the lands of relative plenty, doing it so badly? And anyway, is nourishment a simple matter of nutrient consumption?

We may indeed be living in a time of abundance, of 24/7 availability in fact, and yet we’re experiencing widespread malnutrition (as opposed to the undernourishment seen in parts of the developing world). There’s a whole history chapter on how we got here, but in short, we’re now fed by an industry which, with a compelling business model, knows how to keep itself buoyant and profitable. In evolutionary terms, we haven’t caught up with this rapid change. At all. The early human brain made survival more likely through an inbuilt imperative to eat whatever food was available as soon as it became available and restraint was built in, not into the brain itself, but into the environment we were part of; overeating was rarely possible. It’s a stroke of luck for the food industry that our brains haven’t adapted to develop a consistently successful ‘halt’ button and that the original tastes and textures which were once such a driving force for our survival as a species (specifically sweetness and fat) are still big favourites with us and are easily exploitable. But it’s not such good news for us, either individually or in respect of the wider knock-on effects of this collective behaviour - the feared collapse of the UK’s NHS is driven in no small part by our faulty relationship with food, as is the case with the impact we’re having on our planet.

So is this it? Is the whole complexity of our eating issues down to just two factors: a keen industry and an un-adapted brain? It might be the whole story if it weren’t for the added twist of being human with emotions, desires and needs that go beyond the purely physical. As a species, we ‘use’ food for better and worse in ways that have little or nothing to do with the nutritional value to our bodies; what better way to come together with others than for a shared meal? But equally, what better way to find instant solace, comfort, reward, distraction, satisfaction, relief or happiness, (albeit fleeting) than with foods that hit the reward and pleasure centres in our brains? We’re feeding so much more than our bodies when we eat, but much-needed nourishment, in all its forms, may be absent. Repeating these patterns over and over make them ever more likely and so the phrase ‘stuck in a rut’ becomes the realisation of an uncomfortable reality which has taken hold almost without us noticing.

But this is good news too: repeating patterns over and over make them ever more likely .. It works both ways, so if we prioritise desirable patterns then they too can be reinforced and a brain scan would likely support any evidence of neural adaptations corresponding to the change already apparent to the person living with it. It’s how to begin the shift from one set of patterns to another that seems challenging, daunting or even impossible, and to then ensure that it’s sustainable for long enough for the new patterns to really take hold. Is there a formula for this? Mercifully, no, there isn’t. Each individual makes their own way through the experience of life, picking up insights and realisations along the way that are personal and poignant for that unique individual, thus making any formulaic living at best uncomfortable and undesirable, and at the other extreme, quite simply unfeasible. So there may not be a formula, but there is a natural flow to life and aligning with it transforms hard work and struggle to something much more joyful. In terms of food, aligning with the ‘flow’ is about looking at what nature has to offer, and patiently overcoming the interference of processing, packaging and bar-coding which for so long has appeared normal and has distorted the perception of what really is most natural to us. This is not a ‘quick fix’; but a process, each step of which can be illuminating, an awakening even to a richness that is often overlooked as inferior or unexciting once we’re in the thrall of ingenious food manufacturers. Intuitively, perhaps we do recognise the value of nature, we may have been struck by the wonder of the natural world in many of its forms from the enchantment of butterflies in the summer, to snow-capped hills and mountains in the winter. Eating is a daily opportunity to interact in a most intimate way with our natural environment; are we not missing out on a most glorious experience by allowing food and mealtimes to be nothing more than perfunctory fuel stops?

The easiest way I know of bringing nature to the table, is to embrace and become creative with raw foods. The reason being that this corresponds with how I and my husband live and work, having discovered the magnificence of this sun-energy-filled food, and its ability to both heal (me, of a chronic condition) and transform (my husband, in respect of the weight he was carrying and the long-term medication he was taking). But this post does not set out to convince the reader to embark on a raw food lifestyle as if it were the only route to nourishment; traditional Mediterranean cuisine continues to be a gift to human health with an emphasis on social interaction, and placing high value on making meals special. Further afield, the inhabitants of Okinawa have achieved remarkable health indicators with their choice of ingredients and meals that have developed over a long cultural history. The ‘easy’ part in respect of raw food is that a number of potentially difficult areas are instantly resolved by the creation of a raw meal: all the ingredients are natural whole foods, and they all have something to offer; there are no fillers or preservatives. Equally, processed, manufactured foods have no role in these creations meaning cane and beet sugar most probably won’t feature. The absence of any cooking puts grains down the list of priorities, and if they are used, they’re likely to be sprouted, making them way more digestible than the unidentifiable wheat in a packaged sliced white loaf. Gluten, therefore, is easily avoidable. The case for meat and dairy products is similar; they do not lend themselves well to raw cuisine and as such are used very minimally, if at all meaning that like gluten, avoiding them is easy. But if instead, reducing them is more desirable, then that is made easier too, with the perhaps unforeseen bonus that over time, an emphasis on natural, uncooked foods is likely (in our experience) to encourage an instinctive desire for quality, for simple, natural foods whether they’re cooked or raw.

 



Whilst it would be irresponsible to suggest that all eating matters can be resolved as outlined above, this approach might at least be a tangible starting point, one that lends some clarity and awareness to any other stumbling blocks, whether they be cravings or more deeply rooted emotions that have been unwanted companions for some years. And vitally too, it may help us re-prioritise and to connect better with the world in which we live.

Saturday 17 September 2016

The Ride Of My Life

Here I am. Ready. I’m selecting my own ride from a spectacular array of options, some of which start on a high ...well high, anyway with the corresponding drop that tends to follow. I go for one that eases me in a little more gently, and it’s undeniably fun, thrilling even … What it is to be alive! The trouble is, it’s not all that long before I forget that it’s a ride and instead I’m consumed by the ride in such a way that every rise, fall, twist and turn become ‘it’, and in turn, these are my reasons to feel happy, miserable, petrified, elated or any other ride-induced emotion. Looking across at others on their ride, it’s much the same story; they’ve forgotten too. Happiness is short-lived and the hands covering the eyes, the attempts to cling on and slow it all down, or to speed up past the ‘high drama’ parts are indicative of having forgotten that it’s a ride, in fact not just forgotten, but having arrived at a belief that this is it, all there is. Is it?

Of course life is rather more textured than a roller coaster ride, and the analogy cannot convey the interwoven connections with others in our passage through life; it’s at best a crude outline, and anyway, what do I know for sure? I can’t prove anything and don’t intend to try, but more recently I have become aware … of being aware! I know that I’m experiencing, whereas previously I only used to experience, and the experience was the driver for my take on my life at any given time - good, bad, dull, exciting, painful, loving, frightening and on and on, all dependent on the peaks and troughs of life, including my moods. But if I am aware of being aware, then who is this ‘I’? And does this alter the effects of the peaks and troughs? Well, yes … and also no, and this is where it starts to run into slightly uncomfortable paradox. This discomfort is most probably a result of my linear, rational processing system, in other words, my mind. Is the paradox perhaps an invitation to witness something bigger than that which can be understood by thinking? At this point I’m grateful to quantum physics for coming as close as is possible within our parameters of measuring and evaluation to demonstrating precisely this - paradox! Can a wave also be a particle? Seemingly, it can. So, back to the paradoxical ‘yes - no’ answer. It seems that this ‘I’ is having a human experience, and the experience is often highly distracting such that I still get lost in the rise, fall, twist, or turn of any given moment or moments, but I can witness all that, too! I can observe myself in the ebb and flow of life, emotions and all, and when I lose myself in it, I get to observe myself stepping back to see it once I’ve noticed that I’ve fallen prey to the allure of the detail. My mind, of course is somewhat ‘boggled’ by this, but although I’m fascinated by the human mind (what even is it??), I’m pretty certain that it has its limitations, and I’ve decided to become more aware of that, too.

So is all of this of any practical use? Perhaps it is. For a start, if life is a ‘ride’, a golden opportunity to experience, then it’s perhaps not all there is, and if it isn’t the big everything, then does that not confer a little more ease in our relationship to it? This notion, of course, relies on a belief that makes way for it, and, of course, that belief may be absent, partial or emerging which in turn impacts on our sense of what life is. But I’ve found there’s one little shift that can be applied whenever appropriate, with little conflict and no negative repercussions, and that’s what I can do, or rather think, when a ‘problem’ arises. Our understanding of the word ‘problem’ typically conveys burden and ‘dead-end’ sentiment, especially if a solution isn’t forthcoming or is completely unavailable, but maybe switch ‘problem’ for experience, ie ‘I’m having an experience’, rather than ‘I’ve got a problem’, and something tends to change. This word is far more likely to invoke potential, expansiveness and maybe even curiosity for what might be: who hasn’t at some time endured a thoroughly unwanted event - redundancy, illness, relationship break-up etc, only to find out further down the line that this made way for something altogether unexpected and possibly even much appreciated? The word ‘experience’ can change the way we feel about whatever’s happening, so I try to have fewer ‘problems’ now, and instead relax a little more into the ebb and flow of experiences, and remember more often to enjoy the ride.

Monday 30 May 2016

the Reassuringly Accidental Way..

….to living on purpose


It was in October 2014 that Graham and I pretty much stumbled upon the Raw Food Scene in all its glory. We had already been charmed by the possibilities of raw food thanks to a raw retreat in Wales only a year previously. Prior to that, I had incorporated ‘something raw’ into most of my meals in line with, frankly excellent, nutritional advice. However, being purely utilitarian, this experience had been neither charming nor rich with possibilities. Our new way of eating, triggered in no small measure by the Raw Chi retreat in Wales, was effecting changes, not just to our day to day lives, but also to our work. A full day meditation workshop, especially one which may well be attended by a disproportionate number of participants who experience insomnia, proved for some to be particularly challenging after a high carb lunch, so we increasingly offered lunches alongside the workshops that might lessen the soporific effects experienced with meditation plus fatigue-inducing foods. Raw Food Lunches, or Art of Calm Lunches as we also call them became part of the offering wherever possible. 





It was almost by accident that we realised our lunches were wonderfully accessible; we never planned for them to be vegan, they just were, so there was no need to cut out meat or dairy for anyone who needed or wanted to avoid either of these. An unintended consequence of this is that I seem to have waved goodbye to eating meat; I don’t know if it’s two, three or even four years since I last ate any (I’d avoided dairy for much longer for personal health reasons), and now I’m hearing the reasons for meat avoidance put forward by compassionate non-meat eaters; it’s so much easier to hear something when you no longer need to drown it out with the noise of your own resistant thinking! As if that weren’t enough, it had almost completely passed us by that there was no gluten in our food; ‘raw’ is a way of eating that simply isn’t based on grains; they may on occasion be included, but then they’re typically sprouted, making them more digestible (although not necessarily free of gluten!) Our lunches, therefore, are naturally available to more people and are hopefully a source of ideas and inspiration for doing things differently, perhaps more ethically, and certainly more health-promoting than many conventional offerings.

I started this post with a reference to an event in October 2014. We had been given the opportunity to assist Raw Food Chef Dani Mitchell in being the sole caterer for the nearly 500 guests at David Wolfe’s Longevity Masterclass in London. I tossed and turned in my hotel bed the night before, not having fully recuperated from the labyrinthitis, a literal collapse, that appeared to be my body’s response to my Dad’s death earlier that same month. I knew it would be a long day, but I never anticipated that I would work tirelessly for 11 hours non-stop, and absolutely love it! I was mostly in the kitchen, but Graham got the full force of the extraordinary energy of the day by somehow getting to be the stall holder and thus coming into contact with nearly everyone. This was our insight into a ‘scene’ that we hadn’t been fully aware of until then: mostly young (20’s and 30’s), predominantly based in the South East of England, and quite simply b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l people. This wasn’t a fashion parade, and there was little evidence of make-up; these people radiated beauty through vibrant health. But what did this mean for a couple of fifty somethings, based in Northern England?

Graham & Me
Sometimes it isn’t immediately apparent that not fitting into a scene may well be a gift, a means to uniquely express and fulfill a passion or purpose. It’s taken us a couple of years to recognise that our minority status, with no established platform, is also an ideal basis for generating something new. The majority of the people we come into contact with live in Northern England and fit into an age group higher, sometimes much higher, than that alluded to above. Thus far we’ve successfully demonstrated numerous health and weight-related benefits of eating more raw food, but this passion is extended and enhanced through the creation of beautiful dishes that can also be enjoyed in their own right. This is increasingly the experience we’re sharing: there needn’t be a divide: healthy food can be sensational, and really good food is surely that which continues to be enjoyed through vibrant health after it’s been digested and assimilated? Meanwhile, living ‘on purpose’ may well ensue from a series of accidents, or in other words, going with the flow.