It’s not about food. Well, maybe it could be about food, kind of. But no, not really. It’s about real life living and what living well means and how sometimes it might mean scraping the cold nasty peas off my analogous plate to make a bit of room for dessert.
I wrote a post yesterday about being full. As in overeating to the point of uncomfortable, can’t-do-anything-because-you-can’t-move kind of full. I’ve been there, sure. I’ve felt like I never want to eat again, but you know what? I always do. And actually, yesterday’s post wasn’t really about food, either.
I’ve been thinking about this whole thing of balance and I’m even quite sure I’ve written about it here before, but I’m just a bit too lazy to go looking through the old stuff to find out. I’ve probably changed my mind about it all since then, anyway.
I like the idea of a balanced life, in theory. Like I like the idea of a balanced diet. It sounds good and healthy and there are charts and apps and you-name-it to help me with either of those good goals.
But real life is sort of random. Real life doesn’t always follow the rules. And sometimes, real life wants more than what you can get from a pie chart.
Sometimes, real life wants pie.
And sometimes, real life eats pie even when real life is already kind of stuffed.
I’m over-working the analogy, I know, but I think there’s something in there for me to think about. Instead of getting upset with myself for over-doing (my word for the year is “do” after all) I think I want to enjoy the meal as best I can. And if I’m starting to feel too full, well, maybe I’ll set that cheesecake aside and eat it tomorrow. For breakfast.
I’ve had a season of fullness. I’ve heaped my plate to overflowing and I’ve done my best to eat it all up. But I’m realizing it’s okay to toss some of what isn’t so tasty anymore. Don’t you think? I’ve eaten some veggies and I’ve finished most of it. And most of the time I don’t take more than I should.
It just happens once in a while, after all. And I know I’ll be hungry again soon.