A compassionate struggle at breakfast

I’m sitting at the breakfast table and I am struggling. It’s my teeth. They hurt. Is it? No it can’t just be the teeth because I can feel that my stomach says no. Because last night I noticed a note playing in my mind after I met a few friends for a snack: longingly, it stated: “you shouldn’t have had that frozen yogurt.” But it was such a quiet voice. Part of me wanted to ignore it because I knew that this time it had nothing to do with the body. What was this about? I was full of something and I was not sure what it was. I remember, my eating disorders voice is a language for me to decode, and then, yes…oh, yes…I was so full of sadness. And now, breakfast….as an important and standard part of recovery, I find another quiet voice. It’s a whisper. A clutching in my heart center, right above my belly. It’s where I find myself caught sometimes at meal times. As I prepare the food and prepare to sit, I hear a desperate: “No, I just don’t want to do it. No, I’m just not hungry. Please.” This is not a new voice. I have known it for as long as I can remember. My belly feels a longing for end-ness, for this breakfast-procedure…to Stop. To please, please, please stop. I don’t want to put more in my body. I don’t want to add more inside because I already feel so full.  So full…of what? So incredibly full of an echoing sadness…of sadness. You and I know that the longing and desperation speak to much more than the food. So much more. The food became the conduit through which our desperation could speak.

But for now, right now it’s the fullness and the sadness. Because even though the recovery process is as large as the wild female soul, it’s also about eating breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. The meal plan is the most basic part of the recovery process. We do it when we don’t want to do it. Doing it when we do want to do it is a no-brainer. It is most important to do it when we don’t want to do it. But it’s not that simple, is it? No, it’s excruciatingly painful, isn’t it? But, don’t stop the most basic part because you have no sense of a supporting essence that really understands how impossible it feels to feed yourself. How desperately your red-hot heart-body screams to be left alone. For a moment, consider the thought that despite your gaping past, you are the only one who will ever be your constant witnessing presence. You need to show yourself that you know. Perhaps the eating disorder fears that you will not notice its sadness, your sadness? My sadness. But you can go towards. You see, sadness is a beautiful thing. It bursts forth into the living world from the emotive landscape, quells up inside of our chests, our beating hearts, and begs to be honored with as much compassion and acceptance that we offer to the emotion joy.

Despite their complexity, eating disorders are and always will be emotional disorders. In a situation such as this, breakfast is white-knuckling. I have been doing this for years and from time to time, it’s still this hard. One must shift into a Goddess-Nike, our water sister, Just-Do-It mentality. It sounds blunt, but in this depressed state one must force the steps forward. Otherwise, it’s a lapse. Once a lapse is planted, Fear waters it and it grows like bamboo. It can be recovered, but in the end it’s more self-compassionate to push in the moment and Just-Do-It. Feel your hands on your coffee mug; feel the cool breakfast bowl; the ridges and valleys. Listen for sounds, you are a part of that which is much greater that you can imagine; and it loves you. The light spoon. The tears that well in the eyes when the full spoon is brought to the mouth. May those tears be met with love. The tears that well when swallowing occurs. The internal desperation that seethes from within; does your body ache with “no?” Does a part of you quiver in disgust of this ritual? Are you mistaking the part to bet he whole? Remember, in this moment…you must work through this. This is the compassionate discipline. Relax the shoulders. This is now…and now…and now. You are the compassionate warrior. Breathe in – Breathe out. If you can taste and feel, label and breathe. Again, feel the bowl, the mug, the spoon. For generations we have been eating from stone wear to nourish our bodies. You are not alone.