Sacred Sustenance

So. This post has been rattling around in my head for ages now. A good long while. Months, I tell you!

My sweet friend, the ever-fabulous, ever-chic Miss Heather of Gathering Spriggs wrote a post with the same title (you didn't think I came up with that one on my own now, did you?) last year about cooking and eating that was a joy to read. It rocked my world. And I got to thinking.

My cooking philosophy is quite well reflected in what she said, actually. I TOTALLY IDENTIFY. I'm the creative, free-spirited type. I don't do well with rigid schedules and expectations.

Ritual and tradition are often hard for my free-spirited self. But more and more, I see the value in them the older I get, and am working hard to establish some rituals in our household revolving around the way we eat.

I love food. I love to be in the kitchen making and baking and experimenting. I love exploring blogs and magazines about cooking and trying new recipes. I love to break bread with those who mean the most to me. I love (a little too much, I'm sure) to eat.

So, in case you haven't noticed, I like to eat. (Maybe you haven't. If you know me, though, you KNOW.)

I talk about food a lot. I think about food more than I should. I definitely EAT more food than is *really* necessary. You might say I'm obsessed.

And you'd be (mostly) right. But I like to think about it as more of a love affair. There is something blessed and almost holy in the rite of preparing and partaking in a meal.

Our lives center around the act of eating. Everything else is ancillary. Except for breathing, nothing else (physical) is absolutely necessary. Food is life-giving. Life-sustaining. But the meal should not be consumed simply for survival. Life is about MORE than survival, right? It's about the act of living, of thriving, of being and becoming.

Food is meant to be enjoyed. I mean, what's the point of eating if it's not enjoyable? I honestly believe that life here on earth is too short to not enjoy the things that we have been given. To not savor them.  It is NOURISHMENT. Think of the word: to nourish. It means,

1. To sustain with food or nutriment; supply with what is necessary for life, health, and growth.

2. To cherish, foster, keep alive, etc.: He had long nourished the dream of living abroad.

3. To strengthen, build up, or promote: to nourish the arts in one's community.

Notice how that one word is so much MORE than simply the act of consuming?

And where one's food comes from, how it is processed (or not) is, I think, almost as important as the act of eating itself.

To be clear, I am *not* talking about situations where people are starving and there's literally not enough to go around. I am talking about this subject in relation to what I know.

And as a diabetic, even more of my life revolves around food, in very powerful and mostly negative ways, sadly.

Remember when I talked about guilt in this post? Yeah.

Food and guilt go hand-in-hand when you're diabetic. More so when you're overweight and diabetic.

More about that later (because seriously, who wants to talk about the fact that they are fat?).

And so the act of eating becomes even more complicated (aside from the guilt) when you add-in something like diabetes. Because there's carb-counting, and insulin-to-carb ratios and deciding if you need ALL the insulin now, or if it should be spread out over the next hour-and-a-half. And this usually all has to happen before you can take the first bite of whatever it is you want to eat.

Diabetes involves a lot of complicated maths. Yay. I loves me some complicated maths. Fortunately, my pump does a lot of it for me, but still, there's a lot it doesn't do. And I've been doing it so long now, that it comes almost automatically. Although whenever I sit down to actually THINK it out, it takes me forty-forevers, and I'm half-wrong most of the time.

But I am so sick of the guilt, the shouldnts, the cants. Life is too damn short to not eat a doughnut once every six months, I'm sorry. People, ALL people, but especially people like me, should be able to ENJOY our food. We are constantly told how most things are bad for us - and YES, so much of what is out there, prepackaged, precooked, preheated, preprocessed using God-only-knows what - is SO VERY bad for us, but NO... NOT ALL FOOD IS BAD. And indulging (using common sense and with moderation) is good for the soul.

Anyway.

But as much as I love to cook and eat, I realized when I read Heather's post that I was not nearly as intentional about the meals I make and partake in as I had THOUGHT I was. Despite the love affair, I haven't made mealtime a sacred space. And that, I think, is an area in which *I* personally need to grow. And that's continued to swirl around the back of my mind for these last months.

There is a saying in the Talmud, When the Holy Temple was in existence, the Altar atoned for Israel; today, a person's table atones for him.

 -Talmud, Berachot 55a

Whoa.

While I don't totally adhere to this belief, I think there is SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT to be taken here. 

If we are seeking to be holy, seeking for that kedushah (holiness) of spirit, then what does our table say of that? What does the way that we prepare our meals and then take in nourishment speak of our journey toward holiness, toward becoming our best selves?

I am caught and condemned, because up until recently - today perhaps - though I had read Heather's post and have been ruminating on it, I had not thought of our food - our sustenance - as a part of becoming holy.

It has not been sacred. It has very often been rushed and pushed and inhaled and wolfed and digested and annihilated.  But it has not been contemplated, delighted in, relished, rejoiced in, enjoyed, and appreciated at all OFTEN ENOUGH.

And a lot of all this, just like everything else in life (more so with diabetes), comes down to discipline. It is a discipline to breathe the aromas and quiet the soul before partaking. To savor every bite. To practice self-control and not snarf down a whole box of Nutty Bars because the Daddy brought them home and now they're just sitting there, mocking you, begging to be eaten. To prayerfully consider snarfing down the whole box and ask God to somehow make them healthy, even if it's only for the afternoon.

I am sadly lacking in discipline in many areas of my life. But I am working hard toward learning more of it. In ALL things moderation. Something our society has lost sight of. Something I am still learning.

So what are YOUR thoughts on this subject, friends? I would love to hear them and invite a discussion. Do share!

The Big D

Today's post is a loooooong read. Also, be aware that sometimes I write a bit, ehm, tongue-in-cheek, with relation to diabetes. If I don't seem to take it seriously enough, I'm very sorry, but you'll need to find another blog to read for that. Okay, so go read this already and tell me what you think! 

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So, like I said I would, I am actually writing a post related to this post from last week. I KNOW. It's kind of like a miracle, right?

Anyway.

So I thought I might as well tackle these in the order that I mentioned them... Or something.

Anyway.

Today's post is not really all that fun for me to write. It's honestly a bit daunting. And not a little intimidating. And scary.

But as I have never been one to let intimidation or scariness get in my way (nor am I easily intimidated, let me tell you), here goes.

I have diabetes. But you already knew that.

What you probably didn't know are the things I'm about to share.

First, some facts:

1. Insulin and blood sugar go hand-in-hand. Insulin is the hormone that your body produces (from your pancreas) to process the foods you eat, turning them into usable substances. Before that can happen, though, your body has to turn those foods into glucose. Insulin is what allows the body's cells to break down and actually USE that glucose.

In a normal person, that glucose is used by the cells in your body through the insulin your body provides before it can get to an unsafe range. In a diabetic, there is little or no insulin for your body to break down the glucose with, so the sugar basically floats around in your blood stream while your cells starve to death. Too much of that glucose in your system also allows for it to turn into alcohol (not good).

Blood sugar (or glucose levels) is the amount of glucose in your system at any given time. Everything you put into your body produces glucose. Except water. And air.

And, for even more fun, your body stores glucose and can sometimes choose to dump it into your system just because. Average blood sugar numbers are between 70-140. But one thing to note about blood sugar - after eating, though, a normal blood sugar reading is basically anything under 200.

Hypoglycemia, or "low" blood sugar is anything under 70. Hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) basically means that there is too much insulin in your system and not enough glucose to go around. The effects of low blood sugar can mimic drunkenness. For me, my mind gets fuzzy, I typically have a hard time finding the right words to say what I'm thinking (but that happens a lot anyway! Mommy brain! Ha!), I feel lightheaded or dizzy, and sometimes my fingertips and lips go numb.

Hyperglycemia, or "high" blood sugar is anything above 140, and it is simply the opposite of low blood sugar, in that there is not enough insulin in your system and too much glucose. The effects of high blood sugar are similar to low blood sugar for many people, but for me, they're not at all the same. I usually feel very tired, headachey, nauseated, and am extremely sensitive to everything (and therefore generally tend to turn into witchy-poo until it normalizes).

2. There are TWO kinds of diabetes. The first type is what I have, aptly named, Type 1 Diabetes. It is also called Juvenile Diabetes. It occurs in less than 10% of diabetics. It happens for reasons unknown. It does not run in the family. It is highly unlikely that my children will ever develop diabetes. Type 1 has been linked to everything from overloading on sugar at a young age to reactions to immunizations. It is a complete failure of the pancreas. Period.

I have my own theories about why I am diabetic, but now is not the time for that. Type 1 Diabetes cannot be controlled with diet and exercise, although that stuff really does help... And despite one's best efforts, there are times when waking up with unexplained and seriously high blood sugar just happens. My pancreas is useless. It doesn't produce anything.

The type of diabetes that I have is this: it is a disease that basically takes a functioning part of my body and turns it into useless extra weight. So I have to take meds - insulin... All. The. Time. Or else I die. Period.

The second type of diabetes, appropriately called, Type 2 Diabetes, tends to run in the family. It typically happens in adults age thirty-five and up, and in those who have an (seriously) unhealthy lifestyle and eating habits. Type 2 tends to occur in those who are overweight and have a family history of Type 2 Diabetes.  It often can be controlled by diet and exercise and may not require medication. That is because in most Type 2 diabetics, the pancreas is still functioning somewhat and just needs a kick in the pants.  In my personal opinion, Type 2 often happens because the pancreas simply can't constantly produce enough insulin to keep up with the amount of sugar and/or other unhealthy things that are being processed by said person's body, but once they get that under control, the pancreas (many times, but not always) gets all happy again and can keep up. Sort of. It is still a forever disease, but Type 2 can often be controlled through diet and exercise (though not reversed!). There are still many Type 2 diabetics who do need to take insulin on a regular basis as well, though.

3. Type 1 Diabetes is an auto-immune disease. It is related to thyroid disease, AIDS, and  rheumatoid arthritis, among other things. It is also related (hence the name) to the immune system. Which means - YAY - that as a diabetic, my immune system is seriously compromised. I.e., everything my children drag home gets drug out all over my immune system and I spend a lot of time doing fun things like coughing, sneezing and throwing up. Double yay!

Type 2 Diabetes is NOT an auto-immune disorder. Ninety-five percent of cases of Type 2 Diabetes are related to over-taxation of the pancreas. This is not what happens with a Type 1 diabetic.

4. There is no "real bad" diabetes. It ALL sucks. There are complications. Diabetes is a chronic disease. People throw around the term chronic illness a lot. Like you've been having one cold right after another for the past year, but eventually your immune system will figure it out and everything will be okay. For Type 1 diabetics, it is NOT like that. Diabetes is an ongoing battle, every single minute of every single day. Sadly, it CAN be like that for many Type 2's, but it seems that they often refuse to make the necessary changes for their bodies to naturally deal with insulin resistance.

5. (And what I think may be the most important point here:) Diabetes cannot be separated from my life. No, it doesn't necessarily define me, but it certainly does define a lot of what I do and who I have become. As Kerri's blog, Six Until Me, explains, "Diabetes doesn't define me, but it does help explain me."

In *everything* I do, I have to take into account the fact that I am diabetic.  Everything reminds me of the fact that I wear this disease like an item of clothing that I can neither remove nor mend to make it presentable.

Diabetes is the dirty and tattered rags of an imperfect body that I wear. And every day, in almost every THING I do, I am reminded that I wear them.

I am reminded by my coffee in the morning.

I am reminded with every single bite of food that goes in my mouth.

When I snap at the kids because my blood sugar is high, I am reminded.

I am reminded every time I leave the house and everywhere I go because I have to bring all my "paraphenalia" along.

I am reminded by the fact that I don't wear certain types of clothing because it's simply too difficult to wear them.

Each year, when I am sick more often and for longer than most people I know, I am reminded. 

Packing my suitcases around all the supplies I have to bring when I travel, I am reminded.

Untangling the tubes of my insulin pump from wherever they've wrapped themselves around me at least three times each night, and I am reminded. 

When I have to change my pump site, prick my fingers, pick up my insulin in an unending line at Walgreens, go to the doctor every other week to make sure everything is "okay," or take forty minutes sitting on the floor of a grocery store recovering from a low blood sugar, I am everlastingly reminded.

There is no activity that I do that doesn't serve in some way to remind me that I bear this disease the way some women bear children... Except that there is no relief. There is no birth, no joy of new beginnings. It is just the being swollen and full-to-bursting and uncomfortable and hormonal in a constant and unending cycle of wake-check-inject-sleep.

And yes, since I know you're probably wondering, even sex doesn't escape unscathed. Sex is an even more interesting feat when a bleeping pump and forty-two feet of plastic tubing and, of course - let's not forget - low blood sugar is involved. Or maybe you weren't wondering. And now you are simply to traumatized by the idea to even continue reading. But you know, I figured it would come up eventually, and I should share in the interest of full-disclosure and everything.

So ANYWAY, as they say, "The show must go on!"
 
And OH! The guilt. The guilt of it all. The try-and-fail of every day with this disease.

The responsibility, the heaps-upon-heaps of "Do this, do that, do these other forty things and maybe you'll live until you're 50."

The weight of it, the judgment, the looks, overbearing doctors and pitying nurses and the surprised and shocked looks - "YOU have diabetes????" And most of the time, my heart answers like this: "Why yes. Yes, I do. It is *forever*, and you know NOTHING about what it is like. So go away and leave me alone to eat my chocolate in peace and STOP JUDGING ME."

But the nice me doesn't do much but nod my head and move on.

The scare tactics, the pity, the "Oh, I know someone who was diabetic and they died." (Note: This link is how I found Kerri's blog. I cried when I read it. This has happened and continues to happen ALL. THE. TIME. And until I read this, I just thought it was something about me that caused people to say the things they did.)

The aloneness. Did you know that until three months ago, I did not know another single person with diabetes? Let alone, Type 1. The ONE person I now know is six years old. And I can do nothing but encourage him. I have no friends with diabetes. I've met a few in passing, but there is no one to talk to who "has been there." in this particular area of my life. Type 1 Diabetes is a lonely disease.

There are support groups, yes, but honestly, I wouldn't even know how to get plugged into them, and I don't even know if I would *want* to.

So there you have it, all messy and out in the open. Just the way I like it.

But I won't deny it: this was a scary post to write. And not without emotion. I have never spoken most of these words to anyone. And now they are out in the great, wide internet for God and everybody to read.

And sometimes I wonder if I'm crazy?

Just look at this post.

The Big Three

So, I've been thinking (I do that a lot).

And I've come to realize that in two years of being in the blogging world (but really only one of actual BLOGGING), I've never really set out to explain who I am, why I want to blog, and what I am passionate about on here.

I think part of that is due to the fact that most of you, my few, wonderful, and oh-so-very dear readers, know the "real" me, so there's no need to explain. You already KNOW.

But after thinking about it, I think that it's important that I share some of these things on here, whether you know them or not.

The who I am part can wait. I haven't even figured that one out yet. I'll let you know when (more like IF!) I do.

The why I want to blog part is pretty straightforward: I'm a writer at heart, I have TONS of stories to tell (because I have loads of wacky things happen all around me every day. Just ask the Daddy, he says I attract bizarreness.), and I love my kids and want to record some of what they do in a format that will actually allow me to remember in my older, more senile, years.

So, that leaves the passions.

Yikes. That's a doozy.

I'm kinda-sorta-maybe super-passionate about EV-ER-Y-THING, or just kinda "Meh." about it all.

It's like this - when the Daddy and I first started dating, he asked me what my favorite color was, and I responded: "Oh, periwinkle! And, um, sea green. Oh! And that wonderful cantaloupe orange-y color. And violet, which is like periwinkle, but more purple. And aqua. I LOOOOOOOOOOVE aqua!"

To which the Daddy, being the Daddy, responded, "You do know what the meaning of the word favorite is, right?"

I *love* color. Almost ALL the colors. There are very few that I don't like. But, that being said, the few that are truly near and dear to my heart surround me every day in our home. They're my favorite FAVORITES.

And so it is with many part of my life. I have a lot of "favorites." But the really stand-out ones... There are not quite so many of those.

There are really three. Three things of nearly equal importance in my life.

In no particular order:

The first is being diabetic. Not the diabetes part, though. The part where I have learned about nutrition, health, insurance companies, eating habits, whole foods, regulating my intake, and how who I am is often dictated by what I eat because I AM A DIABETIC AND DIABETES AFFECTS E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

I'm not passionate about diabetes. I pretty much loathe this disease. But I cannot deny that I have learned some major lessons about life through it, and by the grace of God, have lived to tell the tale. And that makes me passionate about knowing (and hopefully, one day, actually implementing ALL the knowledge I have) as much as possible about all the things I just listed... Foods, eating, nutrition, health, the medical industry, insurance, supplements, etc.

So yeah. That's one.

Then there's Holocaust  and Jewish studies. Not your typical, run-of-the-mill subject matter, I know. But it's my THING. Seriously.

There are a lot of really interesting and convoluted reasons for this love of all things Judaic, and particularly Holocaust studies, but I won't get into them now. Suffice it to say, I am this close to converting.

Sad as it may sound, it's kind of the bacon that's holding me back. I almost wish I'd never eaten pig before, because GOODNESS... Pigs are so tasty! I mean, honestly, how could God create an animal that is SO CLEARLY meant to be chopped up and consumed in any number of delightfully delicious ways... And then decree that it is unclean and must not be eaten???? *Sigh* That one, I really don't understand.

But Jews, Jewishness, Jewish identity, the Holocaust, Holocaust education, Holocaust Survivors... Oh, WOW. I could talk about these things for hours. HOURS. Days, even. (And you think I kid... But no, it's true. I'd talk to a tree if it told me it was Jewish.)

So there's that. (And it's kind of a big that, as many of you already know.)

And then there's my family. The Daddy, the girlies. The stuff of my heart. I told a friend recently that relationships are what the foundations of the world are made up of. Nothing else matters as much as the state of our relationships - with God, with our families, with our friends, with ourselves, with the world at large... NOTHING.

Which is why I started blogging to begin with. To kind of chart these relationships in a concrete way.

So there's the big three. In three words: health, Holocaust, relationships.

And then there are the ancillary favorites, the sideline passions that still get me excited... Photography. Writing. Cooking and baking (my business included, though it has been feeling neglected lately, but that is another story for another time). Reading. Educating - myself, my children, and anyone else who might be around. GAMES (oh, just wait 'till I get to this one!). Jewelry. Interior design. Ideas.

I started blogging because I wanted a place to throw down my thoughts and ideas. To tell my stories (although I have so many, I can't seem to keep up with writing them!). To share who I am. At least, the parts that I've kinda sorta figured out. And to take the journey of discovering more through this unique medium.

And I've done a little of that, but not enough. So over the next couple of weeks (for realz!), I'm going to start blogging some of my stories about The Big Three, and why I think they are important - not only for me, but for everybody. And no, you'll never love my kids as much as I do, but maybe what I tell you about them might make you think. Or laugh. Or both.

And that's kind of the point, isn't it?

So. Your turn. What're your Big Three?