There is no way to articulate what happened to me; at the least, it was deific. I still feel awe when remembering the experience and tears fill my eyes. God spoke to me yesterday, through a Barista.
Like a good little girl I went to church with my Mom and Dad yesterday. I'm a bit ashamed to admit this, but the whole time I was in church I was either 1) caught between thinking the people were either crazy or being jealous at the pure joy they obviously felt as a result of their holy connection, or 2) thinking about when I'd inevitably get hungry and worrying that my blood sugar would get low before I could get back to the soup and salad I had waiting for me back at my Dad's house, forcing me to eat something other than what I had planned to eat. This is my crux, my addiction; absolute control over what, when, and how I eat. Even though I haven't counted in a week, and I'm not planning meals days in advance, the same anxiety-ridden fear-filled thoughts have not ceased. In a last ditch effort to harvest my serenity, I attempted to focus on trusting my body, knowing that building that intuition is the only way out of this mess.
Mine is a behavioral addiction, unlike the chemical addictions that run rampant in my family. I had never really given this difference much thought until explaining to my father the other day that although I sometimes smoke cigarettes I've never been addicted to nicotine, likely lacking the genetic component that makes people nicotine addicts. Similarly, I have drank plenty of booze and hit my share of bongs, yet nothing chemical has ever stuck. Now, tell me about a new study that shows 45 minutes of cardio is the optimal amount of time to workout, or that 1874 calories is what I should eat to maintain my weight, then try to get to me stop adhering to precisely those numbers. The stability, the control, these numbers offer draw me in and lock my Mind in place. At first they bring me peace, but comfort transforms into torture as I realize that any alteration incapacitates me with anxiety. Consequently, it seems odd to me that these two addiction variants can be equally powerful and destructive though society tends to ignore or deny the former. Only recently have addictions like eating disorders, OCD and hoarding behaviors been the focus of recovery programs.
Back to church. At the start of the service the Barista who had taken my complicated and somewhat ridiculous Cappuccino order (decaf, nonfat, sugar-free almond, extra foam) the other day at my favorite local coffee shop came over to me, elated, that she had another opportunity to see me. I thought this a bit odd since, though she was extremely kind and open at the shop, I hadn't shared anything personal with her. After the service she found me again and asked if I would pray with her; I wanted to leave and eat an apple, but decided there was no harm in appeasing her. Who turns down well wishes?! What happened next turned my world upside down and left me feeling absurd for feeling such haughty judgment over the churchgoers; the Almighty was about to prove just how right they were. It was as though God smacked me in the forehead and said "You shoulda had a fuckin' V8!" And considering my issues, I took this quite literally!
She prayed that I saw that I am whole, that I am not broken; affirmed that I have already won. Asked that God ensure the food I eat will nourish me, help me to see that my Body will not trick me and I can trust my innate feelings of hunger and satiation. Declared that I am beautiful and worthy of love, and beseeched God to make all these things visible to me. She even mentioned something about being more valuable than the calories I eat, but admittedly at that point I was in such a state of amazement and befuddlement, not to mention uncontrollable sobbing, that I can't recall the exact words. How did she know?! What did she see?! In that instant I was completely certain of one thing: This was why I came here before leaving, for God to deliver this message in a way I would have to accept. Heaven knows, all these things I have told myself time and time again, but have never been able to believe. Now, how could I deny them when they were utterly crystal clear to a total stranger?
As we were wrapping up our prayer and I thanked the angelic Barista repeatedly while also praising her substantial intuitive gift, my best friend from middle school came over to lend me her support as well. She said something that really struck me, something I have always known but did not recognize in myself; 'The greatest gift we have is the love we give to others." Then she imparted that sentiment onto me, stating that I've always had that gift, yet I've always seen myself as more selfish than giving. Again, something I'll have to accept and love about myself.
Fatefully, as I've already mentioned, yesterday marked the first full week I've gone without counting calories or planning out meals in advance. The copious amounts of anxiety I was experiencing as a result had me at my breaking point, thinking that I should just count to appease the beast even though I know the number doesn't mean anything, and the only true and accurate calorie counter is my Body. After my divine intervention, however, there was no way I was about to count! After all, I have already won, I only need to learn to see that and stay the course!
Like a good little girl I went to church with my Mom and Dad yesterday. I'm a bit ashamed to admit this, but the whole time I was in church I was either 1) caught between thinking the people were either crazy or being jealous at the pure joy they obviously felt as a result of their holy connection, or 2) thinking about when I'd inevitably get hungry and worrying that my blood sugar would get low before I could get back to the soup and salad I had waiting for me back at my Dad's house, forcing me to eat something other than what I had planned to eat. This is my crux, my addiction; absolute control over what, when, and how I eat. Even though I haven't counted in a week, and I'm not planning meals days in advance, the same anxiety-ridden fear-filled thoughts have not ceased. In a last ditch effort to harvest my serenity, I attempted to focus on trusting my body, knowing that building that intuition is the only way out of this mess.
Mine is a behavioral addiction, unlike the chemical addictions that run rampant in my family. I had never really given this difference much thought until explaining to my father the other day that although I sometimes smoke cigarettes I've never been addicted to nicotine, likely lacking the genetic component that makes people nicotine addicts. Similarly, I have drank plenty of booze and hit my share of bongs, yet nothing chemical has ever stuck. Now, tell me about a new study that shows 45 minutes of cardio is the optimal amount of time to workout, or that 1874 calories is what I should eat to maintain my weight, then try to get to me stop adhering to precisely those numbers. The stability, the control, these numbers offer draw me in and lock my Mind in place. At first they bring me peace, but comfort transforms into torture as I realize that any alteration incapacitates me with anxiety. Consequently, it seems odd to me that these two addiction variants can be equally powerful and destructive though society tends to ignore or deny the former. Only recently have addictions like eating disorders, OCD and hoarding behaviors been the focus of recovery programs.
Back to church. At the start of the service the Barista who had taken my complicated and somewhat ridiculous Cappuccino order (decaf, nonfat, sugar-free almond, extra foam) the other day at my favorite local coffee shop came over to me, elated, that she had another opportunity to see me. I thought this a bit odd since, though she was extremely kind and open at the shop, I hadn't shared anything personal with her. After the service she found me again and asked if I would pray with her; I wanted to leave and eat an apple, but decided there was no harm in appeasing her. Who turns down well wishes?! What happened next turned my world upside down and left me feeling absurd for feeling such haughty judgment over the churchgoers; the Almighty was about to prove just how right they were. It was as though God smacked me in the forehead and said "You shoulda had a fuckin' V8!" And considering my issues, I took this quite literally!
She prayed that I saw that I am whole, that I am not broken; affirmed that I have already won. Asked that God ensure the food I eat will nourish me, help me to see that my Body will not trick me and I can trust my innate feelings of hunger and satiation. Declared that I am beautiful and worthy of love, and beseeched God to make all these things visible to me. She even mentioned something about being more valuable than the calories I eat, but admittedly at that point I was in such a state of amazement and befuddlement, not to mention uncontrollable sobbing, that I can't recall the exact words. How did she know?! What did she see?! In that instant I was completely certain of one thing: This was why I came here before leaving, for God to deliver this message in a way I would have to accept. Heaven knows, all these things I have told myself time and time again, but have never been able to believe. Now, how could I deny them when they were utterly crystal clear to a total stranger?
As we were wrapping up our prayer and I thanked the angelic Barista repeatedly while also praising her substantial intuitive gift, my best friend from middle school came over to lend me her support as well. She said something that really struck me, something I have always known but did not recognize in myself; 'The greatest gift we have is the love we give to others." Then she imparted that sentiment onto me, stating that I've always had that gift, yet I've always seen myself as more selfish than giving. Again, something I'll have to accept and love about myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment