What brings you pleasure? Real pleasure, so rich and deep that even thinking about it creates a visceral response? Right now, see if you can list a dozen things that bring you shivers of excitement or delight, elicit little mmmmms of satisfaction or make your lights burn a little brighter.
Your sources of pleasure may be as mundane as getting a manicure, as spectacular as skydiving. But more likely than not, food is somewhere on your list. Nothing wrong with that... until there is. When food becomes the primary -- or sole -- source of pleasure, that's when problems arise. Food as a source of pleasure is natural; it tastes good. It's comforting and reliable. Compared to other sources of pleasure, it's cheap, fast, easy and legal. And like some other pleasures, it's addictive, shame-provoking and harmful when taken to extremes.
Food was our first pleasure. When we were babies, we cried for food; it filled our tiny bellies. It gave us comfort in other ways -- we associated being fed with being embraced, with the sensuous delight of being cradled in loving arms, held close, cared for.
As toddlers and preschoolers, we were praised for eating; we were good little boys and girls for finishing our peas. We got cupcakes when our plates were cleaned. When we skinned our knees or banged our heads, we were soothed with cookies and kisses. The link between food, physical comfort and love became ever more inextricably intertwined.
Then, as we moved toward puberty, the tables turned -- especially for girls. Suddenly, eating mounds of food wasn't good after all. Suddenly, we were encouraged to minimize and restrict intake. "Don't eat so much, or you'll get fat," we were cautioned by peers, mothers, fashion magazines. Being "good" no longer meant cleaning our plates. It meant restricting food in a way that was perceived to encourage slimness. We were taught to make self-denial more important than pleasure. That message was reinforced through our adult years. So, for many of us, the simple act of eating has become a torturous, tangled web of love, comfort, guilt, shame and fear.
If food is one of your great pleasures, then celebrate it, in all its lush, robust glory. Start like this:
- Make it beautiful. Whatever you're going to eat, bring an element of beauty, grace and dignity to the experience. Set the table with utensils and napkins, maybe flowers or candles, too. Arrange your meal on a plate in whatever way you find most visually appealing. There's nothing elegant or dignified about standing in front of an open refrigerator, furtively spooning chocolate chip ice cream from the carton and into your mouth. If you're going to eat ice cream, serve it in small, lovely dishes (or anything besides the carton). Sit down at the table and really eat your ice cream.