2:57AM Le Hungry

Sometimes hunger doesn’t come in pangs of stomach notifications, like waking up with a headache and some intuition saying “eat”. I went to bed after being too tired to expend the honestly exhausting energy #tuningin to see if I was full after eating a snack. Maybe this is where the core cause is #lettinggo of the need to be “perfectly” sated. I honestly think I was so tired of the mind games, paired with being end-of-day-wiped, that I was just in a #fuckit place and hit the pillow, not feeling like living up to my own standards of eating “just right”.

That was another form of escapist-numbing, I now see. And also of rubbish high standards of perfectionist ways. Well, I’m eating now, and it’s a learning lesson that “perfect” is bullshit. And even in this imperfection there’s beauty of self-discovery and awareness.

Awareness is key.

Also: yes, I genuinely enjoy Brussels sprouts. #maybethisiswhyimsingle

ED Warriors Know:

Yesterday, I instagrammed these:

ED Warriors know it’s a different ball game to say #fuckit and change habits. Mind goes all “butthinkofthechildren” aka BUT WHAT IF IT’S NOT THE SAME MACROS AS YOUR BERRY OMELETTE?!

What if it’s got more sugar?

Are apples going to make me lose control?

Do I deserve to sleep in and not cook my eggs?

I’m so damn glad I’m in a space where I can watch those thoughts, and then tell them to fuck off.

These muffins are good. I’ll eat two, thanks. 

With cheese and butter (ghee).

Recipe: from joyfulhealthyeats

CINNAMON APPLE MUFFINS #paleo #forthelikes: Apples have been a #fearfood ish kinda thing and no more are any #fucksgiven so bitchmademuffins #homade.

Recipes to me are like rules: made to be broken. I muddled round with this recipe, used almond and flax, added raisins, cashews, baking pow instead of soda bc #thatswhatihad. Turned out #prettynicelittlesaturday 👌🏻:

Ingredients

½ cup of coconut oil, melted

¼ cup of pure maple syrup

1 teaspoon of vanilla

6 eggs

½ cup of coconut flour

½ teaspoon of cinnamon

¼ teaspoon of baking soda

½ teaspoon of fine sea salt

1 apple -peeled (#nope) and diced (Mel’s modifications here bc don’t tell me one CUP apples – #theydontcomelikethat).

How I Overcame my Eating Disorder: Forest Greenwell

Forest is a dear friend of mine who I met when I first moved home to Toronto from New Zealand.   She was behind the counter at a cafe I walked into, in a state of low, really ungrounded and upset.  She immediately took me to the back kitchen, leaving the front counter, and sat me down for an hour without blinking an eye, wordlessly signalling to the staff to cover for her.

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She is one hell of a woman, and has founded the wellness initiative Her Habitat, a safe space for anyone to share their struggles that accompany our belonging to this collective human condition called Life.  She connects people and helps the world feel supported; her purpose is brilliantly described in the powerful statement;

You are not alone.

Bless her soul.

She is a warrior of a myriad of Life’s journeys, and battles on while dancing, singing, and doing really cool shit.

Here is her story:

My Eating Disorder Journey:

For a significant part of my life, foods purpose wasn’t to nourish me. I used it to mask, unplug, hide from my feelings. I fluctuated constantly between states of starvations and near illness from binging. I hated my body because I was always tired and never felt good, I hated my mind because I felt weak for giving in to either side of such an intense spectrum, and consequently I hated my friends who had healthy relationships with food. I hated my clothes that never consistently fit me properly, I hated the emotions I was hiding from instead of dealing, and more than anything I hated anything that challenged my way to cope.

I am not proud to say that I actively chose to stop eating. I willingly chose Anorexia over health. I did this with the knowledge that it would get the attention of those around me, and that this would be an easier task than asking for help or doing the very hard work of implementing what I had learned in my years of therapy. I often found myself bingeing and soon my middle ground became Orthorexia instead of Anorexia. I was obsessive about eating healthy. It completely consumed me. And I was still bingeing – now I was just extending my stomach with fruits, veggies, and whatever else I had deemed healthy enough to be able to enter my body.

My breaking point mentally was in Wal-Mart. I was staying with my grandparents for a summer in British Columbia after I had finished high school, and they watched me suffer through hours of running, strict meal plans and timing, and forcing myself into yoga positions that didn’t heal me because I didn’t understand. I was grocery shopping and my grandmother asked me if I wanted any cookies.

Do you know what it’s like to be 18 and having a tantrum in Wal-Mart because your Grandmother asked if you wanted cookies?

I’ve never felt so ashamed in my entire life.

Not just of the reaction, or that situation, but also at my cart full of unsatisfying foods that were not healthy for my mind, not healthy for my soul, and ultimately not even balanced or nutritious enough to give me proper nourishment. I was withering away, moody, disrespecting those that loved me, and fighting against a body and a mind that were desperately needing to heal.

I spent hours meditating in the woods trying to find answers to this longing I had. This void I needed to fill, while simultaneously being terrified of what would happen if I was full. If I did feel joy. If I allowed myself to be human.

The answer was simple, and because of this, so much harder to face:

I was looking for attention.

That’s all it came down to for me. Even though I tried to make myself and my habits invisible I felt offended and unimportant that no one had intervened. I was upset that no one could see that I wasn’t healthy, I was hurting myself. But then I realized I could see it. I could see what I was putting myself through and it was only my job and responsibility to deal with that.

It still took me years to get out of the habit of purging and bingeing. I still fall back on it sometimes. It’s an easy way to remind myself of the “power” I have. It’s also a slap in the face when I feel like shit and realize that there is no one to blame but myself. Not my stress, not my work load, not my roommate or partner or friends. The way that I choose to deal with things, and also the things I choose not to face are not exempt from my hand just because I don’t feel up to dealing with it.

I think the biggest and most important part of my recovery was being accountable.

Yes, all of the tools I learned to avoid bingeing and purging are invaluable to me, and my own intuition and understanding of my body’s signals and messages are paramount. But just how I can take pride in what I am doing right and how far I’ve come, this also comes with the acknowledgement that sometimes I don’t do right by me. Sometimes I do give in to that cyclical pattern. But now I understand what it is, am learning more and more why. I’m finding that the more I’m aware of my triggers and emotions that sway me, the more inclined I am to be conscientious of my eating choices without being paranoid or obsessive about them either.

I can eat a slice of cake without worry about eating the whole cake, or about needing to starve myself before indulgence.

Please don’t hesitate to reach out to her on any of her links for connection:

https://www.facebook.com/herhabitatblog/
https://www.instagram.com/herhabitatblog/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkrAlmDZwwsv_iyGr-4Vdxg/
https://twitter.com/herhabitat/

You.
Are.
Not.
Alone.

Jah bless xo

 

How to Eat Well to Feel Good

Video: It’s not so much what we eat, but how we eat it that matters most.

Focus attention on the feelings that we desire, and let go of the seeking of the items that come along with it – and they’ll come. When we seek things, often we don’t feel so hot, and those feelings and non-serving thoughts keep us where we are. Seek the feelings, relentlessly.

Meal plans don’t work. Finding your own intuition works.

Shit…I’m Becoming one of those “self-love” People…


I feel myself turning into one of those “self-love” people…terrifying bc:

1. ummm…because “those self-love-people”…#refertohomeboyJPSears

2. There are so many out there already. Like Danielle Laporte.

3. It’s not that Danielle Laporte’s not cool…but my shit’s just more John Blaze then that…

4. They use terms like: love-warrior…”divine”, “goddess”, “radical”(in the non-hippie-dude-way), “blissful”(oops), “sanctuary”…iunnoyouknow?

In other important news, a guest blog post is coming today from a Bulimia and Anorexia survivor I had the pleasure of meeting. This feels so cool to share and feel the awareness spread that once again, I (nor you) am never damn alone, as often as I feel it, shit, that’s false as hell!

The Universal Root of Addiction

Holy shit.

I am a little bit of “holy shit”, and I say that amicably.  Yesterday, I approached a gentleman smoking at a cafe and bluntly invited him to punch me in the neck via nosily asking him why he smokes.

You see, I’m fascinated about the nature of addiction, (even The Man, Gabor Mate expresses in that vid that he has a hard time stopping a meal…and experiences “fear of end of meal”-syndrome, #nahmean?) and I offered amicable banter via an inquiry about his attraction to smoking, when he knows it’s not good for him. ( I was clear about my intentions being directly reflecting my own addictions with food.)

We chatted, my neck was spared, (thanks, man) and he was a rad warrior of a human being.  His story was great, having battled addiction in life.  He said he was aware of the dangers of smoking, just as I am aware of the dangers of restriction.  He is enlisted to quit, and he damn sure will.  He said that his battles of addiction stem from an avoidance of pain. (long story short bc aintnobodygottimeforlongblogposts…similar to when looking for a recipe online…and the “prologue” to the ingredients is a novel….bloggers who have the “skip to recipe” button are angels).

My blog post about wanting to feel my pain was big emotionally, and now after speaking with him, I’ve realized what Bulimia served, and what Anorexia is serving for me now: as much as my being is craving to feel my pain, there is a part of me that is equally as resistant to feeling it.  Man, Anorexia is serving to keep me out of presence for the exact reason of avoiding pain.

Honestly, I can’t believe that this is hitting me now as awareness.  I’ve read about this so many times, but it totally just clicked yesterday, not too dissimilar from how you “just click” when you learn how to find your stroke in swimming. You just click that “downward dog” is the pose that dogs really do….maybe that was just me….took me a while…or that dogs are in a permanent push-up position…Life’s so strange that way, that we can read things so many times, but when they “click” it’s like a veil is lifted, it’s like a good poop.

And so, I called a good friend last night as I finished dinner still hungry.

I realized that when I restrict, it’s because I’m pretty damn good at controlling so that I’m just undernourished enough to be able to plan my next meal, to routinize and “time-fill” because if I am sated and present, fuck, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.  There’s almost this non-reality of living in a haze when I’m still hungry, and it’s total numbing.  It’s non-rational thinking because my cells are in survival mode.  It’s a way of living under intoxication.

I don’t feel like I know myself, and I’m learning to love myself.  I am so scared to sit with a full belly, probably bloated (because eating disorders fuck with your gut- and no amount of kraut will heal that shit…it’s gotta come from inside, the seat of self-love, where I’ll no longer self-sabotage), knowing that I’ll be gaining weight, and in spite of it not being about the physical appearance, it’s the act of being in a state of treating myself well while respecting my needs.

I am scared to not punish myself.  I am scared to accept that I deserve to be healthy.  Omg, I’ve grown up my whole life feeling like a loser and I’m terrified to defy that belief.  I’m scared to sit with satiety and fight the inner voice that says I’m: gross, ugly, unworthy, useless…never good enough.

whoa

So today, I had a private swim training client, and it felt fucking good to be in my element like when I coached out in Vancouver.  I really “get” the swim technique, and I love helping other people.  She was so lovely, and it felt really good to be authentically in a healthy state of helping.  I’ve realized that I’ve been walking on eggshells in Anorexia and Bulimia, not living.  I’ve been waiting for life. I’ve been passing time in a numb state to Life, and that’s why my efforts to find my passion or a fucking job are useless because the initiatives aren’t authentic – they’re literally just a distraction until my next meal.  I haven’t been in a healthy state in so damn long, and the universebelike:

bitch please

Glennon Doyle Melton: huge.  If you want to learn more, these two videos were epic in my moments of realization yesterday.  If you have interest in these, watch them.  Please, for yourself.

Thank you Claire, and Deanne for passing them along and for the fucking amazing universe for this.

Sitting with fullness is going to fucking suck.  But you know what sucks more?  The idea of living this half-ass-one-cheeked-bony-bummed life for the rest of my existence.

And so to that life, I say, “Bitch please!”

Also: Sonya, my god, you made my day.  And a continued thank you for all the love, it’s mind-blowing.  Thank you for helping me fight, from my whole heart!

A Practicing Practitioner

Because I’m human too. I’m nutritionally counselling. I’m sharing what worked for me. I’m not waiting “until”. I’m rawly honest and I’m wise and fiercely faithful of the concept “Orenda”, and I’m updating my website to express my story and approach.

Here’s one of the ways I’m sharing my shit: (to a recent client):


We’re all learning, right? We’re all doing this for the first time, aren’t we?

 

I guess I’ve stopped giving two shits

Literally and figuratively.

I sprained my ankle running last Wednesday.  That sucked. It’s still paining, I’m hobbling, can’t do the grocery store trek for my orders….can’t (literally and figuratively) run away from myself anymore.

Yesterday, I had a godawful bout of food poisoning.  I forgot how shitty puking feels.  Puking, while feeling like someone’s taking a bat to your head, and then sitting you on a roller-coaster ride.  Thank god my mum came and helped me.  I was all “no way, Sanjay”, but she came and I’m so grateful for her passing me my “Ginger-Aid” Kombucha etcetcetc.

It was from this, relatively non-threatening shapeshifter culprit (chicken soup, rosowek, thanks Babcia, ja cocham ciebie) that I took to Algonquin to camp, frozen, after taking some time to eat it (half a jar), then having it thaw, re-freezing it at home…thawing it in commuting, and now eating it fuck yuck.  I honestly am so grateful to have combatted bulimia because that shit sucks.

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So I spent all yesterday in fetal position in the bathroom.  Ate nothing.  Pooped once (that’s TWO TIMES ALREADY less than the usual…).  Felt not good.

And then, mum was beside me helping me.

I think that my strong ass determined mind has clouded my intuition in this way: I believed that my sugar-addiction days coming from a restriction-binge-purge cycle in uni led me to intense fear of carbs, paired with my knowledge of carbohydrate-and sugar-burner addictions.  I went to school for Holistic Nutrition and learned about ketogenic fuelling off fats.  I grew terrified and demonized carbs, despite my school condoning the principle of “carbohydrate appropriate” vs no carb. 

 I totally lost trust in my intuition.

Via support from Cliff, the school’s founder (who I akin to Tim Ferriss as the New Zealand-version related to his sheer brilliance and charisma) who has been cheering me on and checking in on my recovery, he expressed the concept that we don’t as anatomical beings need CHO, but his course runs on the philosophy of “high performance” in terms of holistically prescribing the nutrients, and lifestyle to thrive as humans.  This being said, carbs are a wicked tool to use in relation to needs.  These needs vary from person to person.

Yesterday, in my pain, I was pretty damn desperate.  It popped (always somehow have to autocorrect myself from typing pooped….) into my awareness to 

use food as a way to heal myself.  

Holy shit, right?

So bitch felt.

I tuned in, I accepted my feelings, I aksed my body what it needed right then, to feel better.

(that’s not unintentional, aks, gotta do things for your own pleasure sometimes…right Lo?!)

Maybe it took feeling like absolute fucking hell to realize that I don’t want to feel like fucking hell anymore.  Self-inflicted hell, no need.

So I aksed mum to get me things that called to me, the only things I could bare to think I’d be able to stomach, because I was hungry, and nauseated, and confused, but also solid in my intuition: I wanted deez tingz:

  • Granola (got grain-free, but hey)
  • Crackers (got Paleo, but HEY)
  • Corn on the cob (organic? non-GMO? don’t know, don’t care atm–butprobswillcaremorewhenimoutofsurvivalmodebcGMOisrubbish)
  • BENNA’S BAKERY AND DELI SEED BREAD (it’s been frozen in my freezer for ages, and I’ve had inklings to try it for just as long)
  • Lebanon Express dal soup (have been eyeing this damn soup for months….)
  • Kombucha (nobigdealanymore)

FullSizeRender (9)My god, I was solid in my needs.  I ate the soup to start, even when my ED was saying to pick at little things….nibble in non-satiating foods (which is where my bulimic tendencies stemmed…so grateful for my awareness in my post about tools helping me overcome Bulimia and knowing that nibbling doesn’t work…I had to COMMIT to nourishment, so I had the soup).  The soup was first food I ate all day, and had to go slow from nausea, but it felt really nourishing.  I dozed a bit then (was like 7pm then).  Then, round 8, my bod was hungry.  I put my hand on my heart, another on my tum, and felt what I needed: a piece of Benna’s seed bread with GHEE babis, an egg, the granola with cashew milk, and PBaetter.  Honestly, I was pretty shaky, and I remember the feeling of being “out of control” in my binge purge days.  So I swore no phone, no distractions, to mindfully feel my needs and be present.  I listened, I listened to my sweet inner voice that so desperately needs compassion and honouring.  Man it felt so odd.  And so right. (that’swhatshesaid).

I finished, I finished and washed up for bed.  I felt so good.  I turned my phone away, I did bloat myself, I want to heal my gut, be free, help myself, help others, be in nature, run with the wind!

I journalled, I watched Joe Wong, I “prayed”, and went to bed.

This morn, I swam, oh I swam respectfully and slowly.  I ate eggs for breakfast, it was aight…it was aight…it was cool..butmyshitsmorejohnblazethanthat.  Then, I allowed myself to feel hunger.  I never do this.  I suppress hunger till I let myself eat.

Not today.

I came home from the pool, and ATE!  I ate a bowl of the granola, flax seeds, collagen, milk.  It was so liberating!

IMG_8291HUGE!  Man, I can’t describe how huge this feels.

I genuinely think it’s coming from both myself, and being catalyzed from you blessed souls reaching out and cheering me on.  Honestly, fuck, man, the call from Claire, from warrior and swim (AND LIFE) Olympian Coach Ken, love from John Salt, messages in my inbox, Marta, the squeeze from Nicola this morn from way back at Towhee, the honest cheerleaders around me, Jenn at Reunion Island here and now as I blog-post snack (would NEVER be able to do this even last week!  I am free! I don’t need to eat at certain times, man it’s time!).

Yesterday, my roommate expressed how perspective is so key: deaths and illnesses are all around us, and life’s fleeting, everything is fleeting:

This too shall pass

So goddamn it, I listen to my body.  I’ll help you listen to yours, soon.

My life’s beginning to have colour.

Thank you all, thank you Mum, my god you’re beautiful.

You too

No-you-are.jpg

Awareness

I came home from New Zealand with an awareness I couldn’t word of my need to heal. I’m starting to see Toronto’s facilitating purpose in this, because it’s a place I’m so uncomfortable living in, that it’s like the ultimate full-length mirror stopping me straight in my irrational lifestyle of dis-ease, nudging me- no, shoving me under headlights and smacking my cheeks silly. 
Get healthy, for yourself, and sit with your soundly grounded soul in loving trust. Listen, and then fly, sweetheart.

An Ode to Self-Love

Things I like about myself:
* my aptitude to make connections w people I meet

* My drive

* My knack for culinary experimentation 

* My immaturity 

* My maturity 

* My love & respect for nature 

* My damn good intuition 

* My pun skillz 

* My playfulness 

* My taste in music 

* My budding curiosity 

* How I sing

* My ignorance re: all things Trump

* My natural athletic strength 

* My extroversion 

* My introversion 

* My coffee and wine snobbery 

* My passion in helping others 

* My determination 

* My desire for self growth 

* My love of sharing 

* My inner wisdom, finding it

* My desire for learning: to listen, relax, love myself, heal, help, hack allthethings

* My Grind time and drive to beat it

You?