Shut up and listen!

I don't know if I've always ignored the signals my body sends to my mind. But I do know I have been for some time. Some signals are impossible to ignore, like the times I've needed immediate attention for serious medical problems. But most signals are more like status reports, something that merely registers in your consciousness- you can let your autonomic system handle it (like letting voice mail get it). You can even ignore slightly more urgent messages, especially if your conscious mind is on a mission. Feelings of satiety fall into that latter category. Many times I've ignored how my digestive system feels just so I can get one or two more bites of a second or third freshly baked biscuit with honey and butter, or in order to savor a few more forkfuls of perfectly cooked pasta and tomato sauce. I've even tried to override those signals with more input. For a long time I considered soda more than just a refreshing beverage; I also held a belief that it was somehow "medicinal." A liter of cola was a great cure of indigestion, something I've experienced repeatedly in the past twenty years of my life. I now think the grand total of medicinal value soda has is to drown out the messages from my body so I don't have to listen and feel guilty.

I've been conducting a curious experiment the past day or so. I've been listening to those messages, making note of them. I'm not letting them dictate how I eat- yet- because I don't want to scare myself into not listening. It takes a little practice to listen, especially if you're used to ignoring yourself. But it's like riding a bicycle- do I need to repeat the old adage? you never really forget. Practice makes perfect. et cetera.

So, now that I am actually listening to my bodily voice mail, what am I discovering? For one, it doesn't take much to fill me up. In fact, the default sensations i've been experiencing for several years now, I'm coming to believe, is coping with being overly full. Even by the simple act of listening to my body's feelings, I have reduced what I am eating. I set out not explicitly desiring to do so, and I think that is really key. I will fail if I turn this into a battle of endurance, determined to eat less and beat my cravings into submission. In the past, doing this has always resulted in an immediate system-wide rebellion and the next thing I know, I'm halfway through an extra-large slice of new york style cheese pizza with a 36 ounce Coke. No, this is not about suppression. this is about acknowledgement.

I started my day as usual yesterday, having what Abbey and I jokingly call my "breakfast and second breakfast-" breakfast first thing upon rising, ostensibly to prevent a gastric rebellion in the face of encroaching espresso. Then when everyone is up, I make a second breakfast to have with everyone else. In preparation of the day I'm about to spend in an office in front of a computer, I always take a savory snack for the morning and a sweet one for the afternoon (I think this is related to blood sugar). I've also been known to bring along a soda from the convenience store because I'm afraid my tank of water will be too boring. I didn't get the soda, because by the end of second breakfast my stomach was crying uncle. It was more murmur than thunder, but the signal was received. Then I had my snack as usual- sadly, nothing out of the ordinary- an olive loaf and american cheese sandwich on wheat. By the end of that, I sat and waited for the report, and it was not good. I felt sluggish and a tad dazed. Concentration became more difficult. I had a hair cut during my lunch hour. Afterwards, still dragging from the sandwich, instead of shoving something down my gullet I opted to cut up some raw vegetables and dress them with olive oil and vinegar, and packed those for my snack instead of the sweet snack. That's right, I skipped lunch. Me! I skipped lunch! For the first time in, er, well, have I ever skipped lunch?

On the way back to my office, I felt memories flooding into me. They hit me with some force. I realized that basically every day when returning from lunch I can barely move one leg in front of the other. And I had been ignoring it day in, day out. Today I felt different. Really, how I felt was... normal. More normal than usual.

The mind is such a powerful instrument. When ignored, you let your subconscious desires and base animal instincts dictate your behavior. At least that's how it now seems to me. All it takes is the simple act of listening to your body to turn this powerful consciousness toward productive, reasonable tasks. I would say this last day has blown my mind, but I guess it's really quite the opposite.