Today I got two silly holiday mass emails.
You know them both. The first was about the wine in a recipe. The quick and dirty, to all our Julia Child fans, is that you’re supposed to test the wine periodically to see if it’s worthy of being put in the batter. By the time the batter is ready for the wine, you’re sauced and ordering out for cake.
The second is the one that beats up we poor, starving health educators who are promoting ways to stay fit and trim over the holidays. You know, it says things like, “run if you see carrots,” and “drink all the eggnog in town as it only comes once a year.”
It’s a great idea to address the balance issue here. Oh don’t groan. Give me a chance.
I went with the “reckless abandon” strategy the week of Thanksgiving, and I have to admit I regretted it (never mind that I’ve been working this strategy for some time now). My stress reduction skills were in top form and my mental health was superb throughout, right up until my pants didn’t fit Monday morning. A meltdown ensued.
But here’s the thing… Dr. David Katz (one of the truly great wellness experts out there, director of the Yale University Dept. of Integrative Medicine) once addressed the Hedonic ideal to our PATH work unit and I loved him for it.
At a dinner, one of our crew said to him, “I must just be a gosh darned hedonistic glutton because I just keep eating and drinking as if there’s no tomorrow. As if I’m not 30 lbs overweight and miserable.”
He replied, as any self-respecting Yale MD might, “You’re not. That’s not the definition of ‘hedonistic.’”
He indulged us, “If you truly were a hedonist, you wouldn’t even bother to say this to me. If you were hedonistic, you simply wouldn’t care. I can hear in your voice that you do care. Therefore, you are trying to change, however slight. In this moment, you’re doing your best to hold back for the greater good of your health, simply be telling me this, even if only in some small way. Cherish that care and concern. It’s the foot in the door. It’s a stronghold toward what you really want.”
These weren’t his exact words, but close. It made us all feel good, really good. It was one of those moments of great hope. A little twinkle that we’ll be just fine. We’ll get it right in time. His thought also gave us a lovely glimpse into the idea that success is what you make it; it is yours first and foremost. We all can be “successful” at this diet or that for a period of time. What we need for lifelong success is to be and do what is most important to us; that which expresses our values in action. So the question he was really asking is, “in this moment, what matters most?”
For me, “silly” is good, great even, and “caution-to-the-wind” has its place. Everything in moderation, including, at times, “moderation” itself, right? Hmmm. There’s just so much more to the holidays (and life) than an excessive bowl of gravy or, on the other extreme, the food and lazy police. For example, that lobster I just HAD to have because we were in Maine last week, wasn’t even close to the thing I liked best about dinner that evening. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but the conversation was exceptional — completely taking the wind out of a desperate craving, fueled by “When In Rome…” The next day, the Mainers asked me how my lobster was, the one I’d made such a big deal about, and I’d almost forgotten about it.
These “drink-all-the-wine-as-you-make-the-recipe” funnies, and the “run-far-and-fast-from-carrots” soliloquies have their place in the “lighten up” motivational market. I’m all for it. Better that than droning on about diet deprivation pointers (all of which we’ve probable heard a million times before).
I just worry about the real struggles people have at this time of year, be they food, drink, or loneliness woes (or all of the above). Do these funnies fuel the woes or ease them? I guess it’s different for everyone. The bottom line in their intent is to provide respite from guilt. And I’m down with that. AS LONG AS there are good resources (and support people) in place to do the heavy lifting when funny wears off, lonely creeps in, and pants continue to fight back.
By the way, I like carrots — especially with good dip.
The way I see it… No one is truly hedonistic. On the contrary, we are much more likely to be guilt-ridden slaves to an endless bible of health “ought’s.” That’s why the funnies are so funny. “A little flour… A little wine…” I’m laughing. I’m laughing better, though (and not taking the joke too literally, or personally), when I’m not laughing alone.
I’m thinking what matters most for me these next few weeks is twofold: 1) exercise – dag-nab-it, there’s no getting past the fact that I feel SOOO much better when I do it (any of it in any way, shape, or form); and 2) looking for what nourishes my soul. There go those clichés again. Pump the heart literally and emotionally. The undeniable, simple truth is when my soul is fed, I forget that the eggnog is still half full.
I’m looking to revel in traditions and the company I keep. If there’s a good snack along the way, I’m hoping to savor, savor, savor. And it’s not rocket science to know a little bit goes a long way when your heart is full.
Let us know what fills you up this holiday season.
Good luck on your Holiday PATH!
P.S. Also for nourishment, you’ll find me hanging out under the $.99 smushed bunch of mistletoe I picked up at Ace Hardware and put up with a pushpin and fishing line (gawd, all it needs is some duct tape and, “When in Vermont…”). Either that or you might catch a wisp of me in your peripheral vision running from the Martha Stewart police!
Juuuuussssst hear those sleigh bells jing-a-ling, ring-ting-ting-a-ling…