And a Sprinkle of Depression

The value of my house is down. So is the value of my long-term investment portfolio and my short-term savings account. And people in my workplace - people I know, enjoy and respect - will likely be out of a job in a few months. These are depressing times...no wonder it's called a Depression.

But I do see a gleam of light, a streak of sunshine, a sparkle of glitter in this world of down-sloping line graphs. And that is in the potential shift in our relationship with food and consumption.

I've witnessed it in my own household. I am becoming more mindful about my food purchases and my meal planning and the cost per meal and opportunities for new dishes made from leftovers. I am loathe to waste or throw away or allow to spoil. Before shopping a mood or a craving, I'm checking my cupboards and refrigerator and freezer for options. I am becoming aware of my eating plan. And this is a bonus.

And I'm seeing it elsewhere. A couple of weeks ago, Chip made dinner from a recipe he found on YouTube. It was tasty...and it was from a video of 93-year-old Clara Cannucciari making recipes she learned and used during the Great Depression. Clever. And she now has a DVD for sale. Clearly others are trying out ways to conserve in their consumption as well.

So logically, we can foresee that monetary conservation in consumption may lead to dietary conservation in consumption, and hopefully a more balanced approach to food. If we are becoming thoughtful about food costs, then we will become thoughtful about the health costs of eating what we want, eating when we want, eating on impulse or craving or opportunity. We will naturally become more thoughtful about portions so that we stretch our dollars, which will lead to us becoming more realistic about portions so we stop stretching our waistlines. I'm convinced that gradually, people will realize that the amount of pasta they just cooked for dinner for 3 or 4 could actually be 6 or 7 meals. That's a difference that will add to the wallet and subtract from the scale. I'm convinced that when people go out for a dinner that once was the norm but now is a treat in these stressful times, more leftovers will be brought home to become a second or third meal. Instead of taking the "I want (fill in entree name)" bend, more people will compromise their yens in favor of splitting meals.

We have been a consumer and consumption-driven society. So it is natural that any economic downturn - especially one this broad and deep globally - will make us check that. My hope is that the correction in the markets will lead to a correction in our relationship with food.

Introduction

I am constantly thinking about weight. It plagues me throughout the day. Okay, "plague" may be too strong, but it is never far from the forefront of my mind. I think about my consumption, I think about my food choices, I observe what others do and say, how they posture, justify, rationalize and flat-out lie about their food and exercise habits. I judge myself, I judge others. I am much harder on myself than I am on everyone else.

I am here now to explore the influences of this obsession, which I don't claim to have invented, to own, to even be original around the subject. And that's precisely why I'm writing now. Because I think I am an average part of America's food culture. Food and image and weight obsessed, lacking the ability to foster healthy choices consistently.

Not that I am unhealthy. I generally make healthy choices. I occasionally splurge. I am comfortable in my skin, although I have a rather low tolerance for fluctuations that lead me to the higher end of my weight comfort zone. And I think I have a stricter weight comfort zone than most. Or at least it appears that way to me. Again, the judgment.

Yet how can we not judge? We see any number of strikingly skinny celebrities in these magazines, candid shots surrounded by bubbles that read something like, "Baby Bump?" Give me a break! So that's pregnant to you? I must look like I'm about to pop. God forbid the media acknowledge the exquisite variety and shapes and tone and tenor of women's bodies.

And yet, I am not forgiving of myself. Three pounds, a bad eating day, I punish myself. We punish ourselves. We punish each other.

So in this blog, I plan to write from my singular perspective (although I have a feeling my voice will resonate with many) how weight sticks not only to by belly and my butt, but also to my brain.