Define Prison

Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open? ~Rumi


 I had a very interesting experience yesterday.  My dance troupe had its premier performance and after starting our day at 8AM we finally made it to lunch around 3.  We went to a wonderful Irish cafe where - had I wanted to - could have stayed entirely within Paleo/Primal boundaries.  But after saying I was not religiously wedded to that way of eating, and once in a while I can eat whatever I want (ha! picture a two-year old's temper tantrum), I ordered a New England clam chowder (probably loaded with flour and other gluten ingredients) followed by pulled pork plate (I did not take the bread, but the BBQ sauce I am sure had sugar, MSG, and other not-so-good ingredients, with sweet potato fries (sweet potatoes are fine but goodness knows what kind of oil they were fried in) and coleslaw.  Of course I ate some of the breaded fried onion rings (with ketchup) that the other two gals ordered.  

As soon as I finished my meal I told them - if I ever want to eat like that again REMIND ME to stick to my plan.  Not only was I uncomfortable, but I was sick all night with heartburn and a headache, not to mention terribly dehydrated from eating such salted foods.  I still had remnants of heartburn today.

So it made me think - which is the prison: Not eating like I used to or keeping myself in bad health because I do?  I suppose along with the saying "Pick your poison" we can add "Pick your prison."  

I think this all ties in with my feelings about acceptance.  I must accept the fact that I cannot eat the way I did yesterday and still have the health that I want.  I think the worse prison is to keep myself in ill health and to fight acceptance of my truth: that regardless of what my food sensitivity tests may show, I cannot eat with abandon.  Doing so keeps me in a prison of ill health.  

I don't know how many times I will go through the revolving door that this prison seems to have, but I hope this was the last time (but I know it won't be).  It actually has nothing to do with will power.  Will power doesn't mean that I have come to acceptance.  It actually means that I haven't and that I am fighting it.  I want to come to the point where I will look at a restaurant menu, and just quietly know and accept that something like seared ahi and a salad will bring me good feelings and keep my on the other side of the ill-health prison doors, while eating pulled pork and onion rings will put me right back in.  Rather than fight a fight of will power with the warden,  it would be nice to  just walk by the prison - maybe many years down the road I won't even see it anymore.

Anyway - I am barely hungry today and I am honing right in on that.  Along with good choices I am working on paying attention to my body's signals of empty and full, and trying to find the sweet spot right in the middle.  In all honesty, if I had done that yesterday I probably wouldn't have been sick - but that type of food makes me want to ignore the signals, so it is best not to start what I cannot stop.

Here's to staying out of prison!

Miriam