When did food and pleasure become so twisted?
When I eat alone, where is my mind?
My thoughts are...
on my phone
on someone else
on my to-do list
or my next bite.
Or is it on how I feel…
Do I check in with myself over the course of my meal?
Or did I even forget I was eating in the first place?
When I'm in good company, and we're breaking bread
I eat much slower
so long the conversation is balanced.
Though if I want to escape,
I begin to shovel
stuffing the emotion down my throat.
after it goes past my tongue, I can't be bothered.
My body will tell me otherwise.
She says, "Hey! Pay attention to me, I'm here for you!"
but I ignore her saving cries
that manifest in pain and frustration
in small ugly, in dissatisfaction.
She has always known,
look at her when she was a child.
She eats small bites when she's hungry
She stops when she's full.
She even plays in-between.
and remember…she'll eat even more if she's bribed with a sweet.
and too much sweet followed by an achy belly.
"I'll never do that again"
just like I said in college…
Our fear of the body's wisdom is worse than simply listening