Food For Thought About Life

As the launch into 2017 provides the impetus for new resolutions and health goals, many of which involve taking a new look at eating differently for better health and weight loss, I realise I’ve been missing a beautiful parallel between one of my greatest passions and life itself!

Forgive me, if you will, while I wax lyrical for a moment or two about wonderfully scrumptious, health-giving food. You may already know, or you may just need to trust me when I say that eating food that really suits and nourishes the body is a joy once the eater has undergone the sometimes long process of retraining taste buds and gently easing back from cravings that have often been skillfully managed by a very large profit-making industry. As this progresses, a ‘knowing’ starts to emerge; this isn’t thinking, or at least not just thinking, but rather a sense, new cravings perhaps, which drive a person towards supportive, natural foods without reliance on diet cards, calorie counting, weigh-ins and anything else that drains the pleasure out of one of the most enjoyable experiences of day to day life, and turns it into something exclusively functional, measured and dull. When nourishing food is thoroughly enjoyed, health, energy, and vitality are much more likely to flourish, and then everything eaten is a veritable ‘treat’. At this stage, any food or foods that don’t harmonise with our bodies are much more identifiable by the sluggishness, bloating, nausea or headaches they trigger, and the body’s message, if heard, provides the perfect opportunity for a move away from the potentially harmful, and towards the more health-enhancing foods. It’s like the poetry of eating (I did say I was going to wax lyrical), an experience of being at one with nature, this is, after all our most intimate and frequent relationship with nature, if we let it be. It is beautiful, and it is an exquisite expression of self-love.

If you can accept that harmonising with nature in respect of food is a means to flourishing and that to do otherwise is a hindrance to optimal health, then the next few lines might just resonate with you, too. But before I continue, I would add that I’m using the word ‘nature’ in a very wide sense even in respect of food; it’s not just the detail of edible plants that I’m referring to, although a meal whose ingredients are infused with sun-energy is spectacular for that reason alone. The use of the word ‘nature’ here refers also to the rhythms, patterns and flow of nature. The parallel then, is about living naturally in this sense, rather than going barefoot and replacing our brick houses for mud huts - it’s way too cold for that! Where food is concerned, our bodies do seem to know what is right for them. What if something similar is reflected in the whole of life? What if there is a natural flow that suits us and enables us to flourish? Most people have in fact experienced this when doing something ‘on purpose’, something that has meaning, makes the heart sing .. do you get my drift? What then gets in the way of this? Probably two things and again, the comparison with food still holds some relevance; if we move towards ways of eating that suit our judging, evaluating, even fearful minds but not our bodies then harmony will not ensue: eating to fit in, eating for convenience, eating with little understanding of what one’s body might be crying out for, these are all blocks to really good health. Likewise we will ultimately be thwarted by aiming for goals that don’t suit who we are; the experience of flourishing and progressing with enjoyment tends not to happen in such circumstances.

The other hindrance to optimal living is usually something that got lodged in place often long ago; in the case of food this might be an addiction to a manufactured taste, or a comforting attachment to sweet foods previously used as a reward or pacifier in childhood. The ‘life’ version is typically a limiting or fearful belief, which is where it gets interesting and, I will venture to say, can even be put to the test. Just an aside, if you’re not able to trust that eating in tune with nature will work for you, there’s a chance that this part may prove to be a step too far. Or maybe not; we’re all different. If you ask yourself a question such as ‘why am I putting on weight?’ and a glance back at recent food choices reveals say a significant intake of sugar, you may well have your answer: the extra weight has been created by the sugar, (of course this is simply to illustrate; weight gain is often far more complex than one rather obvious factor). It would appear that nature plays out similarly on the bigger stage, too. In this case we’re talking about problem events. Just as nature makes a person aware of too much sugar by increasing the size and weight of the body, for example, it also gives us problems, or perhaps we should say ‘challenges’ as a nudge towards finding any beliefs that impede the experience of living fully. We’re not especially proficient at responding to nudges at first though, so they then get stronger, more noticeable and eventually, less easy to ignore. By this time we have a problem; we might be looking at relationship or health matters, or career or money problems to name just a few (or they may be ‘smaller’ than this if we’ve taken heed of the nudge sooner rather than later). By asking yourself ‘what belief might have created this situation for me?’ there’s a very good chance you may find something that could have held you back for some time. It’s really important to note here that this is common to pretty much everybody and there’s no place for blame, it really has nothing to offer. We’ve all experienced anything from misunderstandings to traumas and these experiences create beliefs about our personal world, often in an attempt, whether or not misguided, to keep us safe. In doing this though, a range of possible beliefs can arise but they will typically be about low self-worth, feeling unloveable, not feeling valued, not feeling safe, not being good enough, or not being worthy enough. None of these is actually beneficial. So if nature is keen to help us shed these limiting or fearful beliefs, shouldn’t we at least be curious and give the invitation serious consideration?

My New Year’s resolution then is starting a little late, but any time is a good time to be ‘new’, and this one is exciting! It’s to have the courage to let life reveal to me where I’m stuck, and trust that when I dissolve, overturn or change the corresponding beliefs, the rhythm of nature will conspire to re-organise the circumstances that have alerted me to them.

#BodyCalm #MindDetox #PeakEvolution

When Food Heals & Transforms

Do we ever stop to wonder what it is that we’re feeding when we eat? It’s such a familiar activity that the question seems absurdly obvious, and yet strangely difficult to answer. Of course we’re fuelling our bodies, but it’s perhaps fair to assume that this answer is incomplete unless we still adhere to the outmoded notion of ourselves as machines. Is it that we’re nourishing ourselves? This is surely what food is for. But if this is the easily accepted answer, then does it not immediately raise another? If we eat to nourish ourselves, why are we, in the lands of relative plenty, doing it so badly? And anyway, is nourishment a simple matter of nutrient consumption?

We may indeed be living in a time of abundance, of 24/7 availability in fact, and yet we’re experiencing widespread malnutrition (as opposed to the undernourishment seen in parts of the developing world). There’s a whole history chapter on how we got here, but in short, we’re now fed by an industry which, with a compelling business model, knows how to keep itself buoyant and profitable. In evolutionary terms, we haven’t caught up with this rapid change. At all. The early human brain made survival more likely through an inbuilt imperative to eat whatever food was available as soon as it became available and restraint was built in, not into the brain itself, but into the environment we were part of; overeating was rarely possible. It’s a stroke of luck for the food industry that our brains haven’t adapted to develop a consistently successful ‘halt’ button and that the original tastes and textures which were once such a driving force for our survival as a species (specifically sweetness and fat) are still big favourites with us and are easily exploitable. But it’s not such good news for us, either individually or in respect of the wider knock-on effects of this collective behaviour - the feared collapse of the UK’s NHS is driven in no small part by our faulty relationship with food, as is the case with the impact we’re having on our planet.

So is this it? Is the whole complexity of our eating issues down to just two factors: a keen industry and an un-adapted brain? It might be the whole story if it weren’t for the added twist of being human with emotions, desires and needs that go beyond the purely physical. As a species, we ‘use’ food for better and worse in ways that have little or nothing to do with the nutritional value to our bodies; what better way to come together with others than for a shared meal? But equally, what better way to find instant solace, comfort, reward, distraction, satisfaction, relief or happiness, (albeit fleeting) than with foods that hit the reward and pleasure centres in our brains? We’re feeding so much more than our bodies when we eat, but much-needed nourishment, in all its forms, may be absent. Repeating these patterns over and over make them ever more likely and so the phrase ‘stuck in a rut’ becomes the realisation of an uncomfortable reality which has taken hold almost without us noticing.

But this is good news too: repeating patterns over and over make them ever more likely .. It works both ways, so if we prioritise desirable patterns then they too can be reinforced and a brain scan would likely support any evidence of neural adaptations corresponding to the change already apparent to the person living with it. It’s how to begin the shift from one set of patterns to another that seems challenging, daunting or even impossible, and to then ensure that it’s sustainable for long enough for the new patterns to really take hold. Is there a formula for this? Mercifully, no, there isn’t. Each individual makes their own way through the experience of life, picking up insights and realisations along the way that are personal and poignant for that unique individual, thus making any formulaic living at best uncomfortable and undesirable, and at the other extreme, quite simply unfeasible. So there may not be a formula, but there is a natural flow to life and aligning with it transforms hard work and struggle to something much more joyful. In terms of food, aligning with the ‘flow’ is about looking at what nature has to offer, and patiently overcoming the interference of processing, packaging and bar-coding which for so long has appeared normal and has distorted the perception of what really is most natural to us. This is not a ‘quick fix’; but a process, each step of which can be illuminating, an awakening even to a richness that is often overlooked as inferior or unexciting once we’re in the thrall of ingenious food manufacturers. Intuitively, perhaps we do recognise the value of nature, we may have been struck by the wonder of the natural world in many of its forms from the enchantment of butterflies in the summer, to snow-capped hills and mountains in the winter. Eating is a daily opportunity to interact in a most intimate way with our natural environment; are we not missing out on a most glorious experience by allowing food and mealtimes to be nothing more than perfunctory fuel stops?

The easiest way I know of bringing nature to the table, is to embrace and become creative with raw foods. The reason being that this corresponds with how I and my husband live and work, having discovered the magnificence of this sun-energy-filled food, and its ability to both heal (me, of a chronic condition) and transform (my husband, in respect of the weight he was carrying and the long-term medication he was taking). But this post does not set out to convince the reader to embark on a raw food lifestyle as if it were the only route to nourishment; traditional Mediterranean cuisine continues to be a gift to human health with an emphasis on social interaction, and placing high value on making meals special. Further afield, the inhabitants of Okinawa have achieved remarkable health indicators with their choice of ingredients and meals that have developed over a long cultural history. The ‘easy’ part in respect of raw food is that a number of potentially difficult areas are instantly resolved by the creation of a raw meal: all the ingredients are natural whole foods, and they all have something to offer; there are no fillers or preservatives. Equally, processed, manufactured foods have no role in these creations meaning cane and beet sugar most probably won’t feature. The absence of any cooking puts grains down the list of priorities, and if they are used, they’re likely to be sprouted, making them way more digestible than the unidentifiable wheat in a packaged sliced white loaf. Gluten, therefore, is easily avoidable. The case for meat and dairy products is similar; they do not lend themselves well to raw cuisine and as such are used very minimally, if at all meaning that like gluten, avoiding them is easy. But if instead, reducing them is more desirable, then that is made easier too, with the perhaps unforeseen bonus that over time, an emphasis on natural, uncooked foods is likely (in our experience) to encourage an instinctive desire for quality, for simple, natural foods whether they’re cooked or raw.

 

Whilst it would be irresponsible to suggest that all eating matters can be resolved as outlined above, this approach might at least be a tangible starting point, one that lends some clarity and awareness to any other stumbling blocks, whether they be cravings or more deeply rooted emotions that have been unwanted companions for some years. And vitally too, it may help us re-prioritise and to connect better with the world in which we live.

The Ride Of My Life

Here I am. Ready. I’m selecting my own ride from a spectacular array of options, some of which start on a high ...well high, anyway with the corresponding drop that tends to follow. I go for one that eases me in a little more gently, and it’s undeniably fun, thrilling even … What it is to be alive! The trouble is, it’s not all that long before I forget that it’s a ride and instead I’m consumed by the ride in such a way that every rise, fall, twist and turn become ‘it’, and in turn, these are my reasons to feel happy, miserable, petrified, elated or any other ride-induced emotion. Looking across at others on their ride, it’s much the same story; they’ve forgotten too. Happiness is short-lived and the hands covering the eyes, the attempts to cling on and slow it all down, or to speed up past the ‘high drama’ parts are indicative of having forgotten that it’s a ride, in fact not just forgotten, but having arrived at a belief that this is it, all there is. Is it?

Of course life is rather more textured than a roller coaster ride, and the analogy cannot convey the interwoven connections with others in our passage through life; it’s at best a crude outline, and anyway, what do I know for sure? I can’t prove anything and don’t intend to try, but more recently I have become aware … of being aware! I know that I’m experiencing, whereas previously I only used to experience, and the experience was the driver for my take on my life at any given time - good, bad, dull, exciting, painful, loving, frightening and on and on, all dependent on the peaks and troughs of life, including my moods. But if I am aware of being aware, then who is this ‘I’? And does this alter the effects of the peaks and troughs? Well, yes … and also no, and this is where it starts to run into slightly uncomfortable paradox. This discomfort is most probably a result of my linear, rational processing system, in other words, my mind. Is the paradox perhaps an invitation to witness something bigger than that which can be understood by thinking? At this point I’m grateful to quantum physics for coming as close as is possible within our parameters of measuring and evaluation to demonstrating precisely this - paradox! Can a wave also be a particle? Seemingly, it can. So, back to the paradoxical ‘yes - no’ answer. It seems that this ‘I’ is having a human experience, and the experience is often highly distracting such that I still get lost in the rise, fall, twist, or turn of any given moment or moments, but I can witness all that, too! I can observe myself in the ebb and flow of life, emotions and all, and when I lose myself in it, I get to observe myself stepping back to see it once I’ve noticed that I’ve fallen prey to the allure of the detail. My mind, of course is somewhat ‘boggled’ by this, but although I’m fascinated by the human mind (what even is it??), I’m pretty certain that it has its limitations, and I’ve decided to become more aware of that, too.

So is all of this of any practical use? Perhaps it is. For a start, if life is a ‘ride’, a golden opportunity to experience, then it’s perhaps not all there is, and if it isn’t the big everything, then does that not confer a little more ease in our relationship to it? This notion, of course, relies on a belief that makes way for it, and, of course, that belief may be absent, partial or emerging which in turn impacts on our sense of what life is. But I’ve found there’s one little shift that can be applied whenever appropriate, with little conflict and no negative repercussions, and that’s what I can do, or rather think, when a ‘problem’ arises. Our understanding of the word ‘problem’ typically conveys burden and ‘dead-end’ sentiment, especially if a solution isn’t forthcoming or is completely unavailable, but maybe switch ‘problem’ for experience, ie ‘I’m having an experience’, rather than ‘I’ve got a problem’, and something tends to change. This word is far more likely to invoke potential, expansiveness and maybe even curiosity for what might be: who hasn’t at some time endured a thoroughly unwanted event - redundancy, illness, relationship break-up etc, only to find out further down the line that this made way for something altogether unexpected and possibly even much appreciated? The word ‘experience’ can change the way we feel about whatever’s happening, so I try to have fewer ‘problems’ now, and instead relax a little more into the ebb and flow of experiences, and remember more often to enjoy the ride.

the Reassuringly Accidental Way..

….to living on purpose

It was in October 2014 that Graham and I pretty much stumbled upon the Raw Food Scene in all its glory. We had already been charmed by the possibilities of raw food thanks to a raw retreat in Wales only a year previously. Prior to that, I had incorporated ‘something raw’ into most of my meals in line with, frankly excellent, nutritional advice. However, being purely utilitarian, this experience had been neither charming nor rich with possibilities. Our new way of eating, triggered in no small measure by the Raw Chi retreat in Wales, was effecting changes, not just to our day to day lives, but also to our work. A full day meditation workshop, especially one which may well be attended by a disproportionate number of participants who experience insomnia, proved for some to be particularly challenging after a high carb lunch, so we increasingly offered lunches alongside the workshops that might lessen the soporific effects experienced with meditation plus fatigue-inducing foods. Raw Food Lunches, or Art of Calm Lunches as we also call them became part of the offering wherever possible. 

It was almost by accident that we realised our lunches were wonderfully accessible; we never planned for them to be vegan, they just were, so there was no need to cut out meat or dairy for anyone who needed or wanted to avoid either of these. An unintended consequence of this is that I seem to have waved goodbye to eating meat; I don’t know if it’s two, three or even four years since I last ate any (I’d avoided dairy for much longer for personal health reasons), and now I’m hearing the reasons for meat avoidance put forward by compassionate non-meat eaters; it’s so much easier to hear something when you no longer need to drown it out with the noise of your own resistant thinking! As if that weren’t enough, it had almost completely passed us by that there was no gluten in our food; ‘raw’ is a way of eating that simply isn’t based on grains; they may on occasion be included, but then they’re typically sprouted, making them more digestible (although not necessarily free of gluten!) Our lunches, therefore, are naturally available to more people and are hopefully a source of ideas and inspiration for doing things differently, perhaps more ethically, and certainly more health-promoting than many conventional offerings.

I started this post with a reference to an event in October 2014. We had been given the opportunity to assist Raw Food Chef Dani Mitchell in being the sole caterer for the nearly 500 guests at David Wolfe’s Longevity Masterclass in London. I tossed and turned in my hotel bed the night before, not having fully recuperated from the labyrinthitis, a literal collapse, that appeared to be my body’s response to my Dad’s death earlier that same month. I knew it would be a long day, but I never anticipated that I would work tirelessly for 11 hours non-stop, and absolutely love it! I was mostly in the kitchen, but Graham got the full force of the extraordinary energy of the day by somehow getting to be the stall holder and thus coming into contact with nearly everyone. This was our insight into a ‘scene’ that we hadn’t been fully aware of until then: mostly young (20’s and 30’s), predominantly based in the South East of England, and quite simply b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l people. This wasn’t a fashion parade, and there was little evidence of make-up; these people radiated beauty through vibrant health. But what did this mean for a couple of fifty somethings, based in Northern England?

Graham & Me

Sometimes it isn’t immediately apparent that not fitting into a scene may well be a gift, a means to uniquely express and fulfill a passion or purpose. It’s taken us a couple of years to recognise that our minority status, with no established platform, is also an ideal basis for generating something new. The majority of the people we come into contact with live in Northern England and fit into an age group higher, sometimes much higher, than that alluded to above. Thus far we’ve successfully demonstrated numerous health and weight-related benefits of eating more raw food, but this passion is extended and enhanced through the creation of beautiful dishes that can also be enjoyed in their own right. This is increasingly the experience we’re sharing: there needn’t be a divide: healthy food can be sensational, and really good food is surely that which continues to be enjoyed through vibrant health after it’s been digested and assimilated? Meanwhile, living ‘on purpose’ may well ensue from a series of accidents, or in other words, going with the flow.

Eating for one.....ness

Eyes glaze over at references to the health benefits of nuts, the vitamin content of kale, the nutrient values in blueberries, or conversely the detrimental effects of processed and chemically-laden food-like substances. It’s hardly surprising; dry facts sprinkled with opinion are rarely inspiring and as such, they generally resonate only with the already interested.

We know that we’ve collectively taken a wrong turn where our food is concerned, we may even have an idea of how we got here: industrialisation, demanding schedules and the subsequent drive for speed and convenience, but knowing this does little to rectify the situation, and a sense of powerlessness prevails. The apparent options seem unappealing or even impossible: turning back the clock would mean a significant reversal in agriculture and food production, not to mention spending much more time in the kitchen, and whose role is that? Equally significant are the barriers to understanding what we ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’  be doing; so much information abounds, each piece contradicting an earlier one. And breaking food down into un-exciting individual components, combined with a reluctance to dispense with the familiarity of, and emotional ties to the current fare, make any real transition seem barely surmountable.

Why do we insist on looking at this through the wrong end of the telescope? Are we missing out on a much bigger picture? Individuals have a valuable role, not infrequently an invaluable role, but only interaction with others can lend meaning and relevance. This is not exclusively a reference to human beings, it applies just as well to food, but perhaps even more significantly, to ALL individual parts. The ‘parts’ are everything; food, people, land, water, air, wildlife, animals. There cannot be a separation, only an imbalance. Recognising the one-ness is to hold the key that opens the door to a new world. The world of the individual parts is mechanistic and disappointing as the search for equilibrium proves elusive. The world of one-ness emphasises harmony and a mutual reflection of it; if I value the world around me and eat in ways that support it, then I am likely to benefit too; if I seek first to take authentic care of myself, the choices I make to do so will impact more favourably on the world from which they originate. Instinctively we know this but we have learnt to see the world through a focussed, narrow and thus limiting lens and in doing so, deprive ourselves of the colour and joy of a world seen and experienced through the wide lens of awareness. This learning can be overturned, and it will effect everything … perhaps slowly and gently, but certainly profoundly.

Just One Glass .....

For anyone not raised in the UK, the relationship the British appear to have with alcohol may seem a little bewildering (although as a nation, we are not unique in our apparent obsession to over-indulge). Ultimately though, it’s one’s own relationship to anything and everything that’s more pertinent.

As a young adult, I drank quite liberally, because I wanted to ….. or at least I assumed I did. It was certainly the case that I fitted in better socially by doing so, and I felt accepted. Thinking back, I don’t know if I really wanted alcohol, or if I wanted to please those who seemed to want me to drink. My decisions were made quite unconsciously, even before the effects of the alcohol took hold.

Social situations now are different because alcohol no longer appeals to me. In some ways, I would like to claim that this virtual cessation has been a fully conscious decision on my part, but in fact, it’s been more of an evolution, it’s just happened. However, I have made one very conscious decision, and although it can, and maybe should, be applied broadly, the issue of drinking is a good place to start. The decision is to examine my set of ‘rules’ in respect of my relationship to alcohol. The rules of the early days were plentiful and yet more or less the same in terms of the outcome: ‘Thou shalt drink in social situations, and be outwardly irritated if the need to drive / take antibiotics etc inhibits this freedom.’ ‘Thou shalt accept alcohol whenever it is offered, because to refuse is …… feeble?’ ‘Thou shalt sometimes drink too much in order to be a source of entertainment to others, and if too much proves way too much then the ensuing hangover is at least the next day’s topic of conversation (along with the entertainment provided beforehand), and thou shalt experience a hint of inexplicable pride.’

I don’t regret the abandonment of these rules, but what have I replaced them with? Is it that my body is a temple and must not be defiled by such poison? Is it a quiet belief that abstinence makes me a better person? (And what does this mean on those rare occasions that I do have a drink?) Even I have wondered if there might be some truth in one or both of these, and this is why I want to take a look at my set of personal rules, the unconscious rules with which I govern my life: do they limit me, or do they contribute to my freedom and enjoyment of life? I suspect it’s the former. Maybe it is being unaware of the rules, rather than the rules themselves, that needs to be addressed, the unacknowledged shoulds and should nots about how life should look, and how one should behave.

Perhaps decisions are best made fully consciously in the moment, in line with what is real, and feels right. This approach may not make my social interactions easier: I can’t wear a label if I don’t have a fixed rule, but whether or not others wish to classify me, needn’t become my concern. My concern is surely that I’m living authentically and true to myself? There’s no real freedom or joy in unconsciously agreeing to a set of hidden rules, whatever their origin; instead, an attitude of self compassion and self respect will likely prove to be all that’s needed to make the most appropriate, fully conscious decisions in any given moment.

The Mittens Are Off

May I invite you to pretend for a moment? To pretend that you’re visiting a world much like this one, in fact so much like this one that as you observe the children, you see almost no differences. Closer examination of the general population however, reveals a mystery, something you just don’t understand. It’s their hands. Those with their hands on view here are in the minority whilst the rest are wearing what you can only describe as mittens, although some are much more robust, more like boxing gloves. You learn from a lady you meet that her father taught her the piano when she was a child. Playing used to make her heart sing, but the mittens make it too difficult, the dexterity she used to display, is so impaired now that she avoids any opportunities that come her way to play the instrument she once loved so much. Another shows you the hooks he’s holding in each each hand. They’re widely available here and do allow him to perform some of the tasks that he used to rely on his fingers for, but he readily admits that he’s overused them and now he can’t unfurl his fingers; or rather he could, over time, if he were prepared to relinquish the hooks, but he’s learnt to depend on them. Others you meet demonstrate countless other difficulties that you take for granted such as easily turning the pages of a book, putting ribbons in your hair or a tie round your neck. The clothing here has become very functional, and life has become noisier as voice recognition is the only way to write emails and text messages. They've explained their stories, but you still don’t really know why they cover their hands, and why they cannot or will not remove the mittens. There is joy here, but it’s muted as so few people live to their full potential.

You’re glad to return from that world that made you feel a little sad and despondent. It’s good to be back to normal. Walking through the park, you smile as you hear the excitement of the children in the play park, and there are three children playing tag around the trees, laughing and squealing at the anticipation of being caught. One of the children asks their father to play too, but he tells them he’s too old to run around. He isn’t old, but his breathing is laboured just with walking, and his gait isn’t very easy or fluid thanks to the excess weight he’s carrying. Later that day you talk to your neighbour, and you offer her some fruit as you think you may have bought a little too much. She declines as she isn’t sure if any of it might interact with her medication. She’d rather not be taking the medication - she’s been on it for a few years, and there are side-effects - but she doesn’t know of another way to manage the problem. She reveals that a friend has suggested that she manage the condition with a change to her diet and for a moment you’re curious, is she going to try it? But then she laughs, and you feel you’re being invited to join in and laugh too at the absurdity of doing something no doctor has ever so much as mentioned to her. No, she’ll stick with the tablets. For a moment, your thoughts jump back to the weird world of the mitten-clad hands, but you try to shake it off and carry on with the day. It won’t go away. The news you’re reading in the paper is about the soaring rates of obesity and type two diabetes, and in your mind you re-trace your walk back home with the heavy bag of shopping, remembering the huddle of customers standing at the counter of a fast food restaurant, and your surprise at how many of them seemed to prefer to consume their purchases from paper bags or cardboard boxes whilst walking, or standing at the bus stop. You’re faced with the reality that you live in a world where the beauty and joy of eating real foods that have captured the energy of the sun have been replaced by industrialised commodities which cannot function harmoniously in the human body. What you took for normal, is actually just commonplace. Everywhere you go now confirms this; so many people with so many limitations from minor ones to the more disabling and destructive, from the immediately apparent to the complaints of ‘sluggishness’ and low moods, and so much of it attributable, at least in part, to an eating culture that seems to promise so much, but is instead an ugly, painful and costly process of deprivation.

It’s time then, to turn away from that which is currently ‘normal’. Time to ensure that you know how to love what your body cries out for, to see the joy in eating real food, to understand the influences behind the collective and personal eating patterns that are forging such a disconnection with nature, and to gently and compassionately overturn them.