I really like to eat.
If there is one thing my wife and I have in common, it’s that we like to get our grub on. Some people eat because they have to. We eat because we love to.
As a result, we’ve had to make some significant changes to the way we approach food. If we hadn’t done so, our combined weight would have begun to throw off the planetary alignment.
Instead, we’ve forced ourselves to exercise, watch our portion sizes, and keep an eye on nutritional value.
You see, as we got older, we noticed how the pounds didn’t stay off on their own any longer. We recognized that, perhaps we had a “problem” (not the food… the food is heavenly precious and yummy filled… you know you like it too…), and decided to make changes that would make our lives better.
It’s not always easy, but we do it. And we are glad we’ve done it.
But there is a period of adaptation to any change. It’s rarely an instantaneous success.
Previously, I have mentioned my time in chemotherapy. But I haven’t said much about it other than it sucked horribly. One day I will tell you all about it, but it hasn’t been pertinent for this discussion. Instead, I will tell you one of the side benefits it gave me. You know, other than not being dead. That was a good benefit as well.
I do not like avocados. It’s not personal. They have never wronged me. We just disagree on some fundamental things, like, what good food should taste like. And we’ve had this mutually agreed disagreement all my life.
They just don’t taste good. As a result, I have despised guacamole for an equally long period of time.
Then I went through chemo and something curious happened.
When you are taking heavy doses of chemotherapy, it becomes hard to eat for two main reasons.
One, you are nauseous all the time. If you aren’t careful when you put something in, it will almost certainly come right back out. If you like good vomit stories, ask me about chemo induced vomiting sometime.
Good times.
Secondly, all those chemicals running around your body will give you strange “aftertastes” in your mouth that are constant and never ending. This means, anything you eat tastes “not good.” The more bland it is, the worse it tastes. Water, the thing I needed the most, tasted the worst. But even worse was how the way my taste buds perceived taste, shifted. Foods that I loved, suddenly became completely disgusting to me. Every day it became harder and harder to find food I could get down.
One day my wife brought home my favorite burrito. It was something we were sure was going to be ok. But I was able to make it about three bites in before I just had to put it down or else “bad things” were going to happen. It tasted horrible. It was like trying to stuff the most disgusting thing I could imagine into my mouth and choke it down.
It was frustrating. Probably even more so to my wife than it was to me. She was in a non-stop mode of trying to find food I could stomach because I needed the nutrition. Well, as I sat there staring at my burrito, I noticed my wife was eating some chips and guac. Seeing the guacamole, I suddenly had the craving for it unlike anything I had ever experienced for food.
I didn’t just want her guac, I NEEDED it.
So I stole a chip and dipped it in and shoved it in my mouth. My world was transformed, the planets aligned, and the babies sang songs with angels. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. Ever.
Mind you, until that moment, I had hated the taste of guac. Now, it was amazing bliss.
Just like flipping a switch, something in my brain changed, and now I could eat guac.
Once treatment ended and my taste buds eventually reverted to normal. My yummy burrito became yummy once again. I can drink water with glee. However, for some reason, I STILL love guacamole. I don’t know why it didn’t revert back. I was changed in some permanent way and I can’t eat enough of it. Oddly, I still don’t care too much for plain avocados, but I also don’t despise them as much as I used to.
If only change was always that simple.
Believe me when I tell you, I wish it was. There are so many things in my life I wish I could change instantaneously. But it’s hardly ever that way.
Usually it’s the opposite. Sometimes, it’s even worse than the opposite.
I once knew a cat named Tristan. This is an actual cat, not some person who is a real cool “cat” like they’d say back in days of Swing music and prohibition.
This guy I know is a cat dude, and a number of years ago brought home a new kitten he named Tristan.
Tristan as a kitten was absolutely the cutest thing you have ever seen. I don’t care if you love cats or hate them, a kitten is just adorable.
However, it became clear in a short period of time that Tristan was, how do I say it… insane? Perhaps not insane, but definitely had some “issues.” For example, the cat had this ingrained need to hunt everything. The blanket. The chair in the corner. The wind. Himself. Constantly stalking, hunting, eating everything. If you walked into any room in my friends house, you seriously had to do it with your guard up because this cat would launch itself at you every time with the intent of ending your existence and then feasting on your bones. Once you proved that you had foiled that particular attempt, you were “allowed to live” and he would leave you be till the next time you moved.
One second good and friendly. The next hoping to drink your blood.
The other thing Tristan did as a kitten was to expend energy like a full on firehose.
I remember cat sitting one time and this kitty would just run laps around the living room at full speed. Across the floor, bound off wall, on to couch, run across the vertical surface of couch back to the floor and round and round and round always at Mach 7. It would do this for a few minutes just non stop. Then, suddenly, Tristan would stop, fall over on his side, and fall asleep.
A few minutes later, he would wake up again, and start all over.
This cat repeated that cycle pretty much non stop the entire time it was at my house.
As he got older, he mellowed some, but never really stopped trying to kill everything and break speed records in the process.
My friend never really found out why, but one day he came home and found that Tristan had died. It appeared as though he dropped dead in mid stride doing whatever he was doing. The suspicion was that his body just gave out. I don’t even recall if Tristan lived two years.
It was super sad, because in spite of his insanity, he was a cool cat.
Sometimes we as people are sort of like Tristan. We are living in a way that is putting terrible stress on ourselves. Be it emotionally, physically, or spiritually. But instead of seeing the need for change, we just keep up the same cycles and habits until something breaks.
All the while, we just keep hoping things will spontaneously change on their own. Things will just suddenly happen. But that is rarely the case.
Tristan probably never knew anything was abnormal about him. But we aren’t cats. We have the ability to be sufficiently self aware to see our need to change before we draw blood in others, or simply destroy ourselves.
It doesn’t have to be that hard.
Change may be hard, but the decision to change doesn’t have to be.
You are more than just your programming. You are in control of that. It can be changed. You can change it.
The question is, do you want to?
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