This week has been, as they say, a doozy. Said goodbye to someone I love.
You know when you’re standing alone in a kitchen, passive in the morning or afternoon or at windy sunset? You’re eating standing up and the light comes in? And it flickers a bit, dancing, and you’re the only one to see it? And you’re like… “this happens every day?” And you watch it for a bit, and then it goes away? Maybe, when you leave the room, it comes back. I don’t know.
Having had little to no creative drive this week, I’ve been writing a Food Diary. Aka What I Eat in a Day, but for when you’re losing or have just lost. It ended up kind of unhinged, as expected.
Breakfast:
When did I last drink water?? No one knows. I force glass down the hatch. Then, more coffee than I usually drink, maybe 3 cups.
At home, before all this, I was being really amazing at making hot water with lemon and a little bit of salt first thing in the morning. Then putting some food in my belly, then drinking coffee. I loved the ideas of Preventing My Levels From Spiking aka not getting a morning crash and burn. Now, that doesn’t quite seem trivial but it does seem… a bit beside the point.
But I do my best, because the morning is virtuous and she needs a little protein. Avocado on sourdough toast, mashed with a fork, plus maldon salt. As I drizzle olive oil, I think how my grandpa would have made fun of this breakfast. I actually remember him making fun of this breakfast! Sigh.
Lunches:
A snack begets itself, morphing absurdly into One Long, Slow Feast. Apples and almonds, almond butter pretzels (so good!), cheese (sorry, self!), and a MASSIVE s’mores frozen coffee from Dutch Bros, a spot I like to patronize with my decade-younger cousin. I pretend I am young again and enjoy the physical euphoria this experience permits.
Also great temporary joy from a Crumbl cookie. I’ve been smelling Crumbl around different metropolitan cities and haven’t had the chance to sample. This is a great time to do so. I end up falling in love with Birthday Cake Flavor.
Dinners: are the best meal of the day in times like this. Celebratory and calm, with the day wrung out and peaceful. Amidst everything, a gift Dinner Gods give me: lots of prosciutto. One night, it came piled on a salad I ordered, a generous tower. I could barely believe it. Occasionally I ask myself when I last ate something green, and then I will eat a small bowl of salad, considering myself Responsible.
Dessert: no point in this part. It’s always happening.
The question of insatiability.
The biggest thing, amidst the sadness one imagines (and the sadness one doesn’t; the surprise sadness, the absurd weeping that is like hiccups, the memory flashes) is — for me — the ravenous hunger.
I feel like there’s such a cultural narrative about grief and food that is so void of snacktime. “I can’t even think about dinner!” or like “I couldn’t possibly! be hungry at a time like this!”. But the inverse can happen, and often does. Food is connected to dopamine, which we really want and need in moments that are uncomfortable.
Grief is one of the moments (like heartbreak etc) where we can’t avoid the physical pain of loss. In traditional Chinese medicine, the lungs are the organ connected to grief. This makes sense when we imagine the heaving of sobs, the difficulty and emphasis on breath. It also makes sense when we consider how the stomach sits below the lungs. In moments of loss, I assume that my digestion will be altered. It feels only reasonable. How could things possibly flow through the same as before? Makes sense for it all to get a bit fucked up.
But still why am I SO hungry then?? My brain tries to distract itself with esoteric reaches at explanation. Of course, psychoanalysis would say that food is the Mother. Meaning oral fixation, primal nourishment, and comfort all in one. Yoga Sutra 1.36 says that detachment helps us by drawing the mind inward. What is feeding oneself, if not bringing the mind’s eye toward the individual body in hopes of self-preservation?
Mostly, I just think when we’re hungrier it’s because we need to eat more. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the most helpful one. A belly growl, an endless snack, a hunger that wakes in the night. What a funny gift, to regenerate.
Last night i sat alone at a diner for an hour and drank and chocolate eggcream then ordered a vanilla eggcream. Because i can.