Not Quite the Caveman

My experiment with going Primal for "Good Nutrition Month" ended after three weeks. I couldn’t tell you when exactly it went awry, but I could tell you something was wrong before my birthday, and probably as early as a week into the dietary lifestyle change. All I know is I am honoring "Good Nutrition Month" by switching back to my old routine, though I still feel a little guilty not keeping it up for another week. 

When I said going Primal isn’t as difficult as you think it is, I truly meant it. For one, three weeks of no legumes, grains, no coffee, and limited fruit/sweetener intake was a challenge and an interesting way of evaluating my past and present dietary lifestyle. I was disappointed that my body reacted the way it did, as I was so excited to be part of the modern caveman experience, to positively figure out what my body needed in order to do what I wanted. I gawked at many of the people who ate this lifestyle, the majority who were “strictly” Paleo/Primal while others used a creative license (but nonetheless have a less-processed ethical-omnivore way of looking at food), and I was inspired to do the same. They were the epitome of "healthy" in my eyes, absolutely and marvelously in shape and beautiful in every way possible.

So I took out legumes and grains and incorporated raw and cultured dairy products. I went through the first week craving fruits and eating a ton of almond butter, followed by my appetite beginning to finally subside and mellow. The removal of coffee and the addition of progesterone to my hormonal therapy followed. Throughout October and part of November did I realize I was back to using food and exercise as a means of controlling my body to balance the uncontrollable situations coming at me in waves. With that came terrible IBS upset, intense intestinal distress, and shifting from one emotion to another in a matter of seconds.

I do not believe going Primal caused this imbalance; rather, I think doing too many good things at once finally caught up with me and turned sour. I do believe going from legume lover and grain glutton to “Me, Caveman. Four-leg, Dinner” overnight is not particularly smart for someone whose body stresses with immediate change. I do believe this experiment was worth it, and encourage people to try new ways of eating (safely and for the right reasons). And above all else, I do believe in honoring what my body tells me. When it says "enough", I listen. 

I loved making Primal meals, and I look forward to making them again. Perhaps two of the three main meals and all snacks throughout the day will have Primal tendencies. Perhaps four days out of the week will hold true to Mark’s Daily Apple “Primal Blueprint” movement while I enjoy huevos rancheros, overnight oats, socca, and legumes on the other three. I give what my body needs, and for the moment it needs gluten free grains and peanut butter. 

Aha! Moments & Recipes by the Book

I don’t know where my mind has been, but I have my theories. Rumor has it she has left the confines of my skull in pursuit of better things, such as running off with a Latin Love God, working at a local café, and making it as an actress in b-rated horror flicks. Without her, I’ve made rookie mistakes, mathematical mistakes concerning recipe calculations or forgetting to acknowledge where acknowledgement is due (Like Erin of The Sensitive Epicure for example, the lovely hostess of this month’s Gluten Free Rally for pâté a choux). I know my two wrongs don’t make a right, but I’ve fixed where I could without my mind in her proper place.

That’s the beauty of being alive, though. We don’t always have a “do over” button or a way of making our mistakes magically disappear like the backspace button on our keyboard when we misspell a word. We do, however, have the ability to correct our errors in the present, as well as the difficult choice in deciding whether to fix them or leave them be. Even if my mind has wandered off to goodness knows where, probably Scandinavia of all places, I turned the wrongs into rights.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It was well past midnight when I found myself unable to settle down. In the darkness I stared out into the dark terrain of my bedroom, filled to the brim with boxes. There were mountains of clean and dirty laundry, boxes of memories that weren’t even mine, even going so far as things yet to unpacked from my semester abroad in Sweden. Within a year, to which I am including my anticipated move to the house I’m renting with friends this August, I’ll have packed and unpacked my life nine times. You heard me right, people. Nine. Times. No wonder my mind ran off without me.

It was time to unpack. It was time to declutter. It was time to get my mind back.

There was a severe imbalance towards my path of Being. I pretty much had the health thing down. I was physically aware with what my body was telling me, at least where eating and exercising was concerned. I started to find things I enjoyed doing to keep my mind focused and busy. But still, something was missing. Something wasn’t right.

There was too much clutter physically manifesting itself in my space, that peaceful haven from the boisterous world that awaited me outside. Where there should have been feng shui, there was congestion, and it was affecting me on a spiritual and emotional level. Where there should have been stillness and quiet, there was chatter filled with incessant rambling concerning life paths I didn’t want to take. With all that clutter I had lost a sense of stability and Self that I felt only other people ultimately knew what was best for me.

 Funny. That all seems to change when you start to throw things away, when you finally unpack last year’s adventure. It turns out your mind was there the entire time, but its voice is significantly louder than it used to be, certainly louder than the fading prattle that used to torment you before.

On a completely different tangent, this could explain why I don’t do recipes by the book. I prefer to treat them like guidelines, friendly suggestions more than anything, and tend to add what I think it’s lacking or omit what I think it doesn’t need. Sure, I’ll keep to the same or similar preparations and I’ll give credit to the origins of the recipe, but cooking is an evolutionary process. What works for others may not work for me and vice versa, so adapting to your needs is not only essential but also a great way to experiment with an already delicious concept.

Except for modifying one thing (okay… maybe two, to make it gluten and refined sugar free), I made a recipe exactly as it was written, and I learned a lot from doing so. I learned that it’s okay to do a recipe differently where you see fit, and that doing something just as it was written or said or done may or may not work for you. I learned that having guidelines made by other people are nice to have when you are looking for perspective or a starting point, but not so much to live by right down to the letter.

You’ve made it this far, right? Go on. Give yourself some credit and listen to yourself for a change. You deserve it.

Combatting Stress with Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

I should be studying for my final exam tomorrow. I should be studying for my final(s) next week. I should be packing up my things and slowly moving back home. I should be doing a lot of things, but am I doing them? 

Sadly, no.

Instead, I’m downing a steaming cup of espresso with steamed whole milk and thinking of what to write for today’s post, trying to keep my eyes open while I await the arrival of my late dinner guests. Today was the first day in such a long time that all was quiet and peaceful (save for waking up two hours earlier than I wanted to, in tears, from a nightmare). I got to extend my morning routine past noon, wearing my bloodthirsty bunny slippers with pride. I got to run five miles without having to be elsewhere immediately afterward. Sure, I was productive; I ran five miles after all, and I did a load of laundry while putting away dishes.

This week has been stressful, and most of it had little to do with academics. I said goodbye to old friends, of whom it may be quite some time until I see them again. The boyfriend is leaving on Saturday for his annual summer internship (this time in Texas), and I am trying to be strong about that. I’ve taken a break from “grains” for a bit, and have been trying out different types of breakfasts in the morning. And after the semester ends, when I’m officially moved out of campus housing and back into the parental units’ abode, I’m cleansing my system for a week.

I’m doing all I can to take care of myself, but sometimes I feel it isn’t enough.

Just for the record, I am compensating my lack of grain intake with other food and I’m sleeping a good number of hours a night. But when I look at the study guides and the take-home exam for my four classes, my eyes glaze over and I look for other things to do.

Also, tomorrow’s exam is probably the one I’m going to do the best on (besides the take-home final), simply because it’s my favorite class this semester taught by one of my favorite professors in S/CAR. But when you get right down the things you have to do in a day/week/month like I do, life tends to overwhelm you. No matter how well you hide it, the stress builds up and all you want to do is laze on a hammock and listen to music that comforts you (Carlos Santana, Tori Amos, Chris Botti, and the Indigo Girls come to mind). 

I think I have a hammock around here… somewhere.

On Monday I told Cheryl all the things that were simultaneously going on in my life, how the calorie counting and poor body image had returned, how simply being seemed simply impossible, how the future seemed hazy, how isolated I felt from the people that mattered most to me, how I wanted to try grain-free living for a week or so, then a cleanse after school let out.

She answered my frustrations, questions, and fears with a story:

(source)

Mara Comes for Tea - Retold from Thich Nhat Hanh's Heart of Understanding

One day the Buddha was sitting in meditation in his cave while his most trusted disciple, Ananda, was outside collecting food for their next mealtime. Ananda looked up from his chores when he saw, coming toward the cave, the Buddha's nemesis, Mara. Mara was a demon king who sought to prevent the Buddha from reaching enlightenment beneath the bodhi tree. Since then he had continued to be a perpetual thorn in the Buddha's side, so to speak, cultivating greed, desire and hatred in men. Ananda new this and was immediately enraged by his appearance at the Buddha's cave.

Ananda approached Mara: "Get out of here! The Buddha does not wish to have his cave invaded by demons!"

Mara replied: "Go and ask him for yourself. I simply wish to speak with your master."

Reluctantly and nervously Ananda did as the demon king asked and entered the Buddha's cave. "World Honored One, the demon king, Mara approaches your cave and seeks an audience with you. I have already instructed him to leave but he insisted I ask you myself."

The Buddha's eyes opened from his meditation and he smiled, widely. "Mara is here? Really? It has been so long since we have spoken. Yes, yes, ready some tea and invite him in and we'll talk."

Dumbfounded, Ananda did as the Buddha asked, putting a pot on the fire to boil and then going outside to tell Mara that he was welcome in the Buddha's cave. "As I knew I would be, little Ananda," said the demon king arrogantly, brushing past the Buddha's humble disciple.

When Mara entered the cave the Buddha rose to his feet, nearly leaping into the air with excitement. "Mara, my good friend, it has been so long since we have seen each other. Please sit, have some tea and tell me why you have come to visit."

Ananda was very nervous now and listened to the conversation between his master and the demon. Mara sipped his tea slowly and then spoke. "Buddha, things are not going well. I wish to be something else. Something other than Mara."

"But, Mara, you are so good at being Mara. Remember when you sent images of sense pleasures and warnings of how difficult it would be for me to fully reach enlightenment when I sat beneath the bodhi tree? That was a fantastic job of being Mara. I really had to struggle to get where I am now. I truly owe you a debt of gratitude."

Now Ananda was getting very fearful. He did not like the idea of Buddha having a debt of gratitude to Mara. This was very upsetting but he listened further.

"Well, I suppose you are right," said Mara, "but being Mara I always have to be sneaking around in the shadows, talking in riddles and half-truths. It is such hard work always trying to think of the best things to say and do. I just...I think it would be easier to be something else. And the worst part: my disciples are now talking of non-duality, peace, social justice, non-violence...it is so frustrating being Mara. I think it would be much better if you took my disciples. Maybe we could switch for a while? You could be Mara and I could try being Buddha?"

At this request Ananda's heart really began to pound. He knew that his master had just said he owed Mara a debt and he also knew how profound his master's compassion truly was. He had seen him give to others when he had almost nothing. He was terrified that he would now become the disciple of Mara and the Buddha would become a demon king. No worse thought was imaginable.

The Buddha thought. He sipped his tea. And then he spoke: "Mara, do you think it is just frustrating being Mara? Being the Buddha is equally...no, doubly frustrating, I guarantee. You think you have trouble with your disciples? Mine put words in my mouth and write them into "sutras" that I have never said. I teach them about non-attachment to material things and what do they do? They build stupas and erect shrines in my name! They even build enormous statues of me out of gold just to pray to even though I have told them time and time again that I am not a god. And they sell trinkets in temples with my words blazed upon them. It is an absolute pain. But I do not give up being Buddha because that is what I am."

Mara sighed and vanished into the shadows. Ananda felt slightly relieved but continued to worry that one day Mara would get what he ultimately wanted.

Mara is Sanskrit for delusion, for the things we fear most and things that block our way to personal enlightenment. Mara is the demons that keep us from seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, the monsters in the labyrinth, the fears that drive us to insomnia.

It is human nature to avert our minds from the things that frighten us or, in my case, stresses us out. For me, inviting Mara to tea is a frequent affair, but it is one I like to keep short. As a conflict resolution major, we are taught to know ourselves, what our triggers are, what we are feeling and why.

Does that mean that the men and women of this discipline are calm and collected every hour of the day? No, it doesn’t. Mara is just as scary and intimidating, but I believe we can name our personal Mara much easier. 

So, if I invited Mara to tea (and maybe offer it this recipe as well), what would it reflect back to me across the table? Mara would reflect doubt in my abilities, uncertainty in my future, isolation from friends and family, loneliness from busy life I lead, lack of motivation, the frustrations of my health, my hunger, the stress of being in college… I could go on.

Naming Mara is half the battle, but it is a crucial step to getting to where you want to be. Mara will come and go, but you are the constant variable in the equation. As long as I remember that, all the current fears, stresses, and frustrations will pass.

In the mean time, as I’m all about comfort these days, this recipe took me back to those days when I was home sick and Campbell’s canned SpaghettiO’s were always in the pantry where I could reach.

So for those dealing with finals and graduation and other stressful things, I wish you all the luck in the world. Just take it one step at a time and, before you know it, it will be one less thing to fret about. And as for this recipe, anything with meatballs is the quintessence of comfort in my book.

Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

For the meatballs
1 lb. Ground beef
1 c. Frozen petite peas, thawed
1/2 White onion, finely diced
1 Large egg
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. Crushed garlic

1 tbsp. Olive oil, for the skillet
1/3 – 1/2 c. water, for the skillet

For the Sauce
1 15 oz can Tomato sauce
1/2 Red onion, coarsely chopped
7 Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 Zucchini, quartered and thinly slices
Salt and pepper, to taste
Red pepper flakes, optional

For the Spaghetti Q’s
1 c. or more of Quinoa, cooked in your method of choice (typically the water-quinoa ratio is 2:1, but check the box for instructions anyway)

Combine the ingredients for the More-Than-Meatballs (excluding the oil and water) in a large bowl until thoroughly combined.
Add the oil and water in a large pot or deep skillet over medium heat.
Make the meatballs into whatever size you wish (I wanted particularly small ones, so I used the 1/4 c. measuring cup and split that into two meatballs), and place them into the pot or skillet.
Let the meatballs cook for about five minutes, then add the ingredients for the sauce.
Cover and cook on medium to low heat for thirty minutes. (During this time, you can cook the quinoa if you haven’t done so already.)
Once all of the parts of the meal are ready, place in the desired helping of quinoa at the bottom of each bowl and top with meatballs and sauce.
Garnish with your choice of cheese and/or sour cream (I used ricotta and it was delicious!).

Serves 4.