Embracing our bodies

Each year, I fast for Lent. The process is always transformative. After doing something for forty days, it becomes easier to maintain the discipline after Easter. The habit becomes a part of me, and my cravings shift. And so, over the years, I stopped consuming fried things, sugary drinks, and meat. I’ve learned to appreciate my wheat whole instead of bleached. In case these seem like ridiculous diet fads, for me, they aren’t. The choices mean living a different life. Of course, I don’t do all of these things all of the time. It would be impossible. But my body now wants to do these things all the time.

I no longer go out at some ungodly hour to yell, "Hamburger, please!" at a neon-lit plastic sign because I worked twelve hours and hadn’t even thought about lunch. I can no longer delude myself into thinking that tomato juice and those tiny peanuts consumed on an airplane is an actual meal. Also, those foil-wrapped bars that taste like sawdust and honey? Those aren’t meals either. I have to inconvenience my hosts when I travel. When I'm home, I have to eat out less and keep the kitchen stocked with fresh things. I have to go to the grocery store more (something I hate doing) and plant vegetable gardens.

All of this took years, but eventually, it meant appreciating the taste of whole food. I could smell my food before it was cooked, I could monitor the color bursting at that moment it went from raw to ready. I could reclaim the goodness of the earth.