Reaching Acceptance & Letting Go

It was three-thirty in the morning when it happened. That same clawing hunger that I thought I’d tempered came back with a vengeance. And it doesn’t just come at three-thirty; sometimes it happens at two. Has it been weeks since I’ve slept over six hours at one time, or months? Regardless, I haven’t slept a full night for quite some time, simply because the hunger pains are relentless. It’s like all I do throughout the morning is eat, and then after dinner before bed I eat. I eat and I snack and I graze. I feel like a black hole that’s always empty, or a pot that never fills, even when you’re making rice for the whole family. 

It's never enough.

I eat and I eat and I’m frustrated. Actually, I’m not as frustrated as I was on Monday (or on Wednesday, when I started writing this post), but still I’m frustrated.

A couple of weeks ago I received a letter from my doctor regarding the bone density scan I had done in February. The results weren’t alarming, but they weren’t rays of sunshine either: my bone density was below average.

I remember watching the machine scan my hip, and how humbling it was to see my bones on the computer screen. It occurred to me how little I thought of what was under the skin, the muscles, the veins, and the blood. Beneath all that I never considered how real my bones were, how instead of being the body of a small universe there were these white masts I used as foundation. It was so grounding a thought that when I received that letter, I felt unreal, deflated, like I could feel the very things that were my foundation giving in to the weight of what it held together.

I was no longer immortal, and I was suddenly aware of my humanity.

The results could have been worse. They could have shown that I had the bones of a one-thousand-year-old mummy with no way of fixing it. Instead, it just merely pointed out that my bone density was below average, and the good news was that there was treatment. (The Doctor had mentioned that too much Armour Thyroid could cause bone loss; however, I think my low bone density was the consequence of years of disordered eating.) So with that in the back of my mind, with some of my early hypothyroid symptoms returning and being Hungry with a capital “H”, you can see how it can leave a girl frustrated.

The hardest part for me is not knowing why I am so hungry, and whether is has to do with: my thyroid condition or some other health factor I haven’t considered (hypoglycemia, mineral/vitamin deficiency, etc.); my fitness regimen of exercising six days a week; or, even with additional meals and snacking, I’m still not eating enough.

And there is the matter of considering that it’s all three.

I usually get emotional when I talk about having a hypothyroid condition. I feel really vulnerable when I do, and that is probably why I don’t write about it very often on Meals With Morri (I’ve talked about the treatment, but rarely the condition itself and how it affects me). I am not the condition, and I don’t view it as part of my identity as a person. There are days, however, when I can’t explain this overwhelming fatigue or when I’m suddenly intolerant of the heat or the cold. I get embarrassed of my cold hands and the yellowish hue when both symptoms flare up. I get discouraged because of the added complications that make it harder to keep weight off or lose weight in general. The biggest fear I’ve had as of late is if I eat more, despite my very active lifestyle, I’ll become the next incarnation of Budai (without the jolliness). 

(source)

So this week I’ve been experimenting by writing out what I’ve been eating, taking my pulse before I go to bed and after I wake up, and working on balancing my active lifestyle with my calorie intake. I’m still waking up early, and I weigh no more than I did when I was weighed before my bone density was scanned. But if getting my bones in tiptop shape means weighing more, or if eating enough to sleep a full night in peace means I am destined to weigh (on average) 125 pounds, I accept those terms.

To be honest, fighting your body for what you believe to be best is hard work, especially when there is more than one way to being right. I could fight (and have been fighting) against my health’s shortcomings or I could work with them and accommodate those needs accordingly.

I’m done being my worst enemy, and I’m finally ready to be my best friend. I’m ready to work with my whole self to finding what works and what doesn’t work for me. Sure, I may get frustrated and I may have days when my symptoms flare up. And yes, there will be days I think it’s unfair that I can’t wear a size 4 dress. But having the health that I have has taught me the importance of pacing myself, being honest, going with the flow, and to never give up trying. It shows how marvelous life truly is in all of its twists and turns and complexities.

I may have gotten up earlier than I wanted to today with a sniffle and a sneeze, and I may have “a rumbly in my tumbly” like a certain Silly Old (Taoist) Bear, but I smile and I enjoy the beautiful spring day as it is.

And really, that’s all we can ever ask for.

Simply Green Brown Rice

360 g Sprouted brown rice
500 ml Water (or more if you want a creamier consistency)
15 ml Unrefined apple cider vinegar
3 tsp. Minced dried onion
1 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Herb de Provence
1/4 tsp. Whole cumin seeds
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper
1/4 tsp. Dried tarragon
1 bunch (126 g) Curly leaf parsley
Juice of 1 Lemon
30 ml Olive oil

1 Lemon, cut into wedges and served as garnish

Combine the rice, water, vinegar, and spices into a pressure/rice cooker or medium saucepan and cook until the rice has softened and taken a creamy consistency (time will vary based on how you usually prepare brown rice and how much water you put in).
Place the parsley, lemon juice, and olive oil in a food processor and pulse until the ingredients form a pesto-like quality.
Fold in the parsley mixture with the rice, and then serve warm with the lemon wedges on top.

Makes 8 servings.

The Tao of Cooking & Silly Old Bears

To think, I had almost forgotten. I had almost forgotten how effortless life could be, how stress could be easily averted. There was a time that I would go out with friends and still have time for school, for work, for self reflection, and for family. These days it seemed like it took a lot of work to simply exist, to be with people and be alone.

The Vinegar Tasters (source)

This is my week of R & R, the week I slowly and surely move back into the groove of being back home with the folks. My grades were better than I expected, and ended up with a 3.23 GPA for the semester, with A’s for classes I thought I wouldn’t get A’s in and passed the classes I thought I was failing with fairly good marks. My summer internship with the Benjamin Franklin Summer Institute for South and Central Asia is underway, and Andy Shallal from Busboys and Poets got in contact with me to discuss working with him in the future (I was so honored that he remembered me). Overall, my health is improving, and with my body temperature finally at 98.6°F, I can happily say I’m no longer one of the Lizard People.

So, with all these wonderful things going on, why was I not at peace? Why was I not happy being still? Why was I not content with myself, overly self-critical and focusing on things I was not and things I couldn’t control?

This is where a certain Silly Old Bear comes in… and Benjamin Hoff’s book The Tao of Pooh.

(source)

It occurred to me that there might be a reason to my frustrations of feeling I wasn’t doing enough. I felt dreadful that I hadn’t gone to the gym in almost two weeks, not counting the physical labor I had done with moving out of campus housing and back home last Wednesday. I felt useless and lazy by wanting to sleep and relax while there was clearly still work to be had. I looked in the mirror and saw what my “lack” of working out was doing to my body, becoming “soft” and “getting bigger” as I stared at my reflection.

This is what I had forgotten: as long as I had preconceived notions and expectations of what my life should be like, I would never be happy. I would never have time to enjoy the present while worrying about what I did or didn’t do, what I am and am not doing, and what I will and will not do. For the past year, maybe more, I was the “Bisy Backson” in which Benjamin Hoff dedicated an entire chapter in his book. I was desperately active, the Athletic sort of Backson, working when I worked, working when I exercised, and working when I played. No wonder this year left me a charred empty shell of what I used to be. No wonder life kept trying to subtly tell me to slow down time and time again, keeping me from doing things I planned with people. I didn’t have time for life, for the people and things that mattered most to me, simply because I was spending all my time and energy worrying about it. To quote this marvelous book, “Enjoyment of the process is the secret that erases the Great Reward and Saving Time.” I forgot the beauty of the journey and the process by hungrily focusing on the destination and the outcome.

Recently I’ve unknowingly incorporated the Taoist philosophy into cooking. I learned to let foods sit and be at rest, making batters in advance and leaving it overnight in order to mimic their gluteny cousins for the best effects. The same goes for other dishes (some naturally gluten free anyway), but it is more about flavor than it is about texture.

The magnificence of the process of cookery is how the outcome is considerably different than it is when you first combine the ingredients. Last night I was frustrated with the broth I made for a coconut curry vegetable soup to side with my oven-baked curry chicken. The green curry paste overpowered the other ingredients, and it was saltier than I wanted, so I added a little of this and a pinch of that, thinking I’d have to dump the whole thing when it still tasted off (I didn’t want to serve my parental units a less than delicious recipe). In my pessimistic state, I turned off the heat and left it on the stove. When Mama Dazz came home from work, the broth took on a new persona. It no longer tasted like bitter seawater with a kaffir lime leaf, coconut, and curry aftertaste. In fact, it had a balanced flavor of all the broth ingredients, including the vegetables I had put into it.

The Tao of cooking is pretty straightforward, once you understand it. There is a time when it is appropriate to fiddle with a recipe (i.e., the process), and there is a time when it is appropriate to leave it alone (i.e., letting it be on its own accord). Gluten free cooking, especially when baking, typically deals with the latter.

Benjamin Hoff with Pooh and Piglet (source)

As a recovering and sometimes relapsing Bisy Backson, I end this post with a thought-provoking excerpt:

“It’s not surprising, therefore, that the Backson thinks of progress in terms of fighting and overcoming… Of course, real progress involves growing and developing, which involves changing inside.” (B. Hoff)

This is what I’d forgotten. This is what I remembered. This is what I learned.

Protein Packed BBQ (Beef, Bean, & Quinoa) Patties with Cornbread Rounds

Arr! Thar be photos ahead!

As the spring semester comes to a close, exams are just around the corner and student anxieties are on the rise. Last week alone I was going to bed late working on one thing or another, and then having to get up early to do something else. By Friday the family and I were doing the finishing touches for our weekend camping trip (some of the photos are posted), and it happened.  

 

(Various photos of the fam at the campsite)

I crashed. 

The maypole ceremony

My heart was beating so loud from my chest it felt like the bells of Notre Dame were tolling. I had a slight fever at 99°F, and simply standing took the breath out of me. Tears streamed from my eyes in panic, my mind racing from one thought to another. I didn’t have time for this; I had packing to do and things to help out with. Nausea resulted from the simultaneous pains from my head and stomach, and my limbs were shaking. Mama Dazz sent me back to bed to lie down. I ended up sleeping for two hours.

The Burt-man in thought

This is what happens when your body to tells you to slow down while on Armour Thyroid.

As mentioned previously, I was/am a Worrier. Once I become worried, it takes quite a lot of effort to calm me down. I used to have anxiety attacks quite often. I was so busy focusing on things I couldn’t control or the lists upon lists of things I had to do that I forgot how it affected me in the present. 

Things don’t bother me as much anymore. I’ve had a lot of training in this department: people, books, philosophies, and life in general. I discovered Taoism the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college from The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet by Benjamin Hoff. (Actually, I had the idea of Taoism in my head before I knew what Taoism was. It was a there’s-actually-a-discipline-to-my-personal-beliefs kind of thing.) The idea of simply "being" had such a phenomenal impact on my teenage brain that I spent that summer and the semester following feeling one with the Universe.

But here’s the reality: simply being is freaking hard. When there is more money leaving your wallet than there is coming into your bank account, classes to attend, drama to avoid, the whole “Oneness with the Universe” concept seems like a hard thing to accomplish, no matter how noble and desirous it is. There is one part of Taoism that has never failed me and saw me through the bumps in the road: trusting the Universe to sort itself out.

I learned that summer to get out of my own way, to trust in the precise workings of the Universe to smooth out the rough edges. Sometimes the end result may not be what you wanted or expected, but it almost always is what you needed. The lessons in our lives will continue repeating themselves until we get the message, until the lesson is learned. We are happy when we focus on the things we can control and miserable when we focus on uncontrollables.

This reminder was a hard one for me to grasp. 

 

(More fab fam photos)

Regardless of the Friday morning feeling useless, the rest of my weekend camping was a blast. My extended family and I packed multiple cars and headed to Stanardsville, Virginia, to celebrate the coming of May (also known as Beltaine). Groups that ranged from two to fifteen people were there with the overall census of fewer than two hundred pitched up tents and outside kitchens. Many were dressed in a Renaissance festival or gypsy garb, while others stuck to typical camping apparel. There were venders selling an assortment of wonders surrounding a large bonfire circle, next to the maypole where the May King and Queen were handfasted. There were train cars modified into living quarters, each with a bathroom, a kitchen, a common area, and a bedroom. Drumming and laughter could be heard throughout the night while various holistic arts were taught during the day.

 

 

I thought this was the coolest thing!

I was still rather lethargic from Friday morning’s episode, so I didn’t wander from camp often, except to see the maypole ceremony, to visit a family friend for lunch, and to use the facilities. Much of my time was spent taking pictures of the people I loved, the campground, the food, and reading Gaiman and Pratchett’s Good Omens.

(Photos of food... XD)

Gluten free chili

I have to admit I was a tad worried about what I would be eating on this trip. I anticipated not being able to eat much of what the others would be eating and packed accordingly: Granny Smith apples, So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk, raw vegetables, rolled oats, a can of beans, raisins, almond butter, almond slivers, two kinds of already cooked rice, potatoes, and canned salmon.

My family wasn’t having that. 

Half of the stuff I brought came back with us, simply because I was accommodated for the main meal. We had two types of chili, both Morri friendly (but one was made with my own spice blend), with quinoa on the side. The breakfasts were also Morri-friendly, but I tend towards hot cereals in the mornings.

And of course, there was coffee.

This weekend further proved how much I love my family, even adding a few more on the roster.

By Monday, I was having an off morning, and it may or may not have been because of the news that the whole world seemed to be watching. Things were not going according to plan. Half of me really wanted to just lie on the couch and watch cartoons all day, to forget how the real world can be a scary and unforgiving place. By my Tai Chi class, that changed completely.

I truly believe Tai Chi is Taoism in movement (which, incidentally enough, it actually is). For the majority of the classes I had been having a hard time memorizing the form, completely forgetting parts and simply frustrated with the right hand being dominant (I’m left-handed) with the sword. Except for slight mistakes that were easily fixable, I was able to do the entire form yesterday, with and without a group.

It was a small victory, but one such as this truly makes all the difference.

And then, there was dinner with the boyfriend. While I was out camping he went to Nashville, Tennessee, to participate in a half-marathon run with a mutual friend. He regaled me with his misadventures and achievements while I cooked up a new inspiration, showing off his new cowboy boots with the smug attitude of being taller (he and I are practically the same size, except he is a centimeter or so taller). In two weeks he will be gone until late August for an internship in Texas, so dinners (any meal, really) like this one will be happening as often as we can before he leaves.

Protein Packed BBQ (Beef, Bean, & Quinoa) Patties with Cornbread Rounds

For the patties
1 lb. Ground Beef
1 c. Refried Beans (I used Trader Joe’s refried black beans with jalapeños)
1 c. Cooked Quinoa
1/4 tsp. Sea salt (may be omitted, as the end result is rather salty)
2 tsp. Crushed garlic
Red chili pepper flakes (optional)

For the sauce
1 c. Trader Joe’s Garlic Chipotle Salsa
1 c. Water

Thoroughly combine the ingredients for the patties in a large mixing bowl.
Place a skillet (I recommend your biggest one) on medium heat with your choice of cooking oil coating the bottom.
Scoop up the mixture in 1/4 c. increments (or larger in you prefer) and form them into patties (give or take, 10 to 12) onto the skillet.
After a few minutes, add the water and salsa into the skillet, cover the pan, and allow to cook for ten minutes.
Flip over the patties, reduce the heat to medium-low, and let cook for another five minutes until done (the result will be softer than your typical burger patty, but it should still feel rather firm in the middle).

Makes 11 patties. Serve with cornbread rounds and a side of French-cut green beans.

* Even though I used 1 ounce less of fat than what Ruhlman calls for, the result still gave a greasy crumb, though it tasted wonderful and had a wonderful crust. (So, to my fellow gluten free bloggers of the GF Ratio Rally, any tips on how to fix this?)

Cornbread Rounds

3 oz Cornmeal
2 oz Arrowroot starch
2 oz Amaranth
1 oz Millet
0.5 oz Agave nectar
1/2 tsp. Sea Salt
2 tsp. Baking powder
8 oz. Whole milk
2 Large eggs
3 oz Coconut oil, room temperature)

Preheat oven to 350ºF.
Combine the flours, baking powder, and salt in a medium-sized bowl.
Using a blender, combine the milk, eggs, coconut oil, and agave nectar until it has a smooth consistency. (This is important for the coconut oil, as it hardened on contact with the milk.)
Pour the wet ingredients into the bowl, and mix the wet and dry ingredients using a whisk or hand-held blender until thoroughly combined.
Pour the batter into muffin tins (greased or wrapper-lined).
The muffins take about 50 minutes to bake, but check to make sure they are done with a toothpick or knife.

Makes 8 – 12 muffins.