“What you don’t let begin can never end.” – Geneen Roth
I watched myself do it. That in itself was a revelation.
I had just spent 8 days either being frantic with worry, supporting my husband and his Mom as they processed their grief, holding down the supporting role, doing some work from home or trying to suppress my need to organise and plan. By the 9th day, when they were with the funeral director, and I was on my own for an hour, I had hit overwhelm.
And that is when I watched myself do it.
The tension had built in me until I could hardly breathe, and I felt compelled to go into the nearest shop. Making a beeline to the fridge, I found one of my favourite little gluten free cakes. Mostly made of ground almonds and cinnamon, and dusted with icing sugar, it is usually a treat and a complete delight to eat. Delight, however, was not what I was looking for.
Barely waiting to get outside the door, I had the package opened and the cake eaten before I had gone ten steps.
I felt better. There was the moment of numbness. There was the moment of relief. There was the moment, the briefest moment, where I felt a little release. The tension and pain lifted for a moment and I could actually breathe again.
Normally the next moment would have been filled with regret, self loathing, frustration or disgust.
But something deep inside of me seems to have shifted. Even while the cake was being eaten, there was a small part of me standing outside myself, understanding what was going on. I could see my small self needing love and comfort and peace, and looking for it in the only way she knew how at the time. The extreme situation had called for an extreme reaction, and food was easier and more acceptable than a temper tantrum or tears right there in the street. I knew all of that, and I was able to see myself with love.
I’m not sure if this calm watcher will last or whether it will move deep enough to help me choose the right kind of nourishment in times of extreme need. What I do know is that the more I look at the world and the more I see the narrative behind the action, the more convinced I am that the power to change ourselves and our world lies in the stories we tell.
Healing begins when we tell a different story.
xo
“Healing begins when we tell a different story.”
Hmmmm, You put into words so well what I have been discovering and doing, but not knowing how to phrase. Changing my story. So beautiful.
I heard recently in a radio interview that food grounds us, brings us back to our bodies. Being someone who has struggled with food I thought that was such a beautiful way of viewing the food and body relationship.