Taming the Hunger Monster
Like probably a gillion other people – in anticipation of indulging in huge holiday meals – I went into the Passover/Easter holidays weighing a tad bit less than usual and feeling a tad bit prouder of myself too. Looser jeans. More prominent cheekbones. More clothes in my closet I could actually wear in public.
The scale went south and my spirits went north.
Then I went to spend the holidays at the homes of my three married children – all of whom have kids. Kids who like marshmallows and ultra-chocolate chip cookie dough super premium ice cream, and cake and cookies (even made with matzah meal, not flour). Families who have beckoning pantries stocked with “exotic” items I’d never have the will power to stock in my own pantry: short bread cookies, boxes of malted milk balls and double crunch zesty cheddar flavored chips. And in the freezer? I actually stumbled on a roll of something titled “Unbakeables.” A cylinder of cookie dough bites described as “chocolate, chocolate dough topped with chocolate mint.” One piece: a mere 160 calories.
Poof. My will power faded. My jeans grew tighter. And tighter. And then the words poured forth:
Why does food have to be my comfort?
Why not staying in bed
with a good book instead
will bring the same satisfaction
The same sense of relaxation
Such a pleasing sensation
As devouring an entire loaf
of banana bread?
Why does food have to be my comfort?
My go-to reliever of stress?
Why can’t I be more like my friends
And find relief by simply buying
A brand new dress?
Why does food have to be my comfort?
Why not downward dog and Namaste?
Does it always need to be M & M’s and glazed donuts
That gets me through the day?
Why does food have to be my comfort
Why not prayer – dance – a soothing bubble bath?
Why does just one look in a bakery window
Lead me down the very wrong path?
Why does food have to be my comfort?
I’m getting a grip. I’ve started foraging their refrigerators only for cheese sticks and fresh strawberries – not leftover matzah kugel. I’m substituting water for wine. Keeping the freezer door closed. And blocking out the box of chocolate covered matzah sprinkled with pecan bits brazenly displayed on the kitchen counter.
And once again, going back to my basic mandate:
Preserving Your Bloom
You can be fat
Or you can be thin
A self-starter
Or hard to begin
You can have dreams
That falter and fail
You can have plans
That only flutter and flail
You can be flawed
Imperfectly molded
You can be doubtful
And easily scolded
But the one tool
You must possess
Utilize wisely
Fully possess
IS YOUR BLOOM
Use your talents and resources
To be the best you can be.
Not perfect. Not perfect.
Not perfect you see.
Choose to live without pity
Cast off despair and gloom
Concentrate solely
On Preserving Your Bloom
The best version of you
Is how I define it
It’s up to you individually
To further refine it
Preserving Your Bloom
Is self-care and awareness
Preserving Your Bloom
With your well-being
Don’t be careless
It’s not just about being fit
It’s not just about looking your best
It’s about doing your own bidding
And living life at your own behest
It’s surrounding yourself
With people who care
And giving back wisely
When others need you there
It’s the old story
Put your oxygen mask first on yourself
Take your desires, dreams and well-being
Down from that dusty, seldom used shelf
So sally forth
With gratitude and with glee
Preserving Your Bloom
Is the only way to BE
Hugs,
Iris Ruth Pastor
