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Reconnections—November 27, 2007:
A Prescription for Holiday Sanity
It’s Thanksgiving Day and the annual holiday madness has begun. You may have sworn, yet again, that this year will be different. You’re not going to succumb to the pressures of our materialistic culture. You won’t be part of the same dysfunctional family patterns, or fall prey to the depression that descends like a black cloak just when you’re supposed to be cheery and magnanimous. And you certainly won’t attempt to eat your way out of these feelings like you have in the past, a habit which sends you to the local gym with grim resolve in January, full of good intentions which crumble by March. No, not this year!
I’d like to suggest a different approach, one that takes advantage of seasonal rhythms rather than forcing you to swim upstream. The idea is to observe what is going on in nature, and find ways to harmonize your activities to these rhythms. For instance, look around. Notice how quiet and dark it is at this time of year. How might you change your daily routine to adjust to this quality? Perhaps less activity, more rest? What would it feel like to withdraw, just like the perennial flowers in your garden, and store up energy for new growth in the spring?
Reconnections—September 14, 2007: Depression
It may seem like we live in particularly trying times and have more reason than our ancestors did to be depressed. But the truth is the world has always been messy and humans have struggled with melancholy from the beginning. In ancient times people petitioned the gods for help. Today we petition the psychotherapist or doctor, without much more success than our ancestors had.
Current thinking favors the theory that depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. Some people, it is proposed, are deficient in one or more neurotransmitters such as serotonin or dopamine that regulate mood. Could be, but what makes me scratch my head over this is the fact that there is no diagnostic test that links anyone’s neurotransmitter levels to their moods. When we diagnose other diseases with a physical cause we must measure specific factors in the body tissue—hemoglobin for anemia, thyroid hormone for hypothyroidism, etc. There is no such diagnostic measure for depression. It is just assumed that because drugs that alter serotonin levels in the brain sometimes improve mood, depression must be caused by a serotonin deficiency. This is bad science. Cocaine also improves mood (more reliably than SSRI medication), but no one is suggesting that depression is the result of a cocaine deficiency.
Also, it’s not clear whether the mood elevation reported by some after taking SSRI medication is because of an increase in serotonin or a decrease. After a certain amount of time, the body down-regulates for serotonin when the brain’s feedback system perceives that adequate supplies are available. Since there’s no way to reliably measure and test these changes, how do we know what is really going on and how it relates to the patient’s mood? Are we attempting to slap a convenient and oversimplified explanation, (one that happens to sell a lot of drugs,) onto an extremely complex condition of the human soul?
In Chinese medicine we view depression as a type of qi stagnation. It’s not the sadness that’s a problem, it’s the lack of movement. So any way we can move the qi will help—exercise, acupuncture, laughter, music, B vitamins, herbs—take your pick. On the other hand, any remedy taken in pursuit of a constant state of happiness only results in a different version of stagnation. Look around. Nothing in nature is always joyful or always in despair. Could part of the human dilemma be our separation from all of this?
Reconnections—September 05, 2007: Cravings
Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between a calling and a craving. Both are insistent and hard to deny. But denying a calling imperils our soul, while denying a craving is sometimes a necessary step toward health. Telling the difference requires careful discernment. Of course, we tend to think of callings in terms of work or creative pursuits, and cravings in terms of foods that are usually bad for us. Who ever felt “called” to the task of devouring a box of Godiva chocolates?
When it comes to food, I find there are two reasons why people experience cravings. The first is lack of enough good quality fat in the diet. (See August 27 blog for more about fat.) A deficiency of fat leaves us feeling empty, unsatisfied, longing for more. More of what, we’re usually not sure, but often we think it must be sugar, the fastest way to trick the body into thinking it has what it needs. Of course sugar doesn’t give the body what it really needs so very quickly we’re craving more. This produces an endless cycle with disastrous results (think diabetes, heart disease, obesity, fatigue, premenstrual syndrome, etc.) So if you struggle with food cravings try including a teaspoon of fat with each meal. I like coconut oil best, but you could also try butter and olive oil. See what happens.
The other reason people have cravings is because of hidden food allergies. There are two kinds of food allergies. The immediate kind cause dramatic reactions such as hives, asthma, and even anaphylactic shock upon contact with the offending food. For instance peanut and shellfish allergies elicit this response in susceptible individuals. People who have these must avoid the allergenic food at all costs. But there are also delayed food allergies that produce less dramatic though equally problematic symptoms. Delayed food allergies set up chronic low-grade inflammation and autoimmune responses. Uncovering this type of food allergy requires detective work. The best way is through a rigorous elimination diet, starting with the most common culprits—wheat, dairy, citrus, soy, corn. There are ample resources available to guide you through this process. The point I want to make here is that these hidden food allergies are often the cause of your most insistent cravings.
Reconnections—August 31, 2007: From Lunacy to Philosophy
In his excellent book “The Fourfold Path to Healing,” Thomas Cowan, M.D. talks about how women must move from a moon ruled life to a Jupiter ruled life at menopause. What does this mean?
The moon is the astrological symbol of nurturing. It also controls the movement of fluids in a woman’s body. Like tides, menstruation comes and goes according to the moon’s cycle. When we are harmonized with the moon’s rhythms, and not disrupted by too much artificial light, it is natural to ovulate at the full moon and menstruate at the new moon. This cycle frames the rhythms of a woman’s life from puberty to menopause. Many women are also tied by this cycle into patterns of nurturing, whether they have children or not.
At menopause we stop responding to the moon in such a physical way. Though we still feel its emotional rhythms, our bodies begin to come under the influence of Jupiter. Jupiter is the astrological symbol of wisdom, philosophy, truth, and justice. The transition to a Jupiter ruled life means letting go of our roles as caretakers, and stepping into positions of authority in society. This is the time to put our hard earned wisdom to use as mentors, teachers, philosophers, and social activists.
Quaker writers in 17th century England often referred to themselves as “publishers of the truth.” What an apt Jupiterian phrase for the work of speaking our minds on behalf of justice in the world. Too often, I see women at midlife caught in the role of caretaker, seemingly forever, as the task of taking care of aging parents falls to them, just as their children are leaving the nest. We need a better way. We need ways to free women in our society to be leaders and keepers of wisdom for the benefit of the community. There is much at stake. Denying Jupiter’s midlife call by staying in caretaker roles is a sad loss to our communities, and the cause of much despair and depression among women.
Reconnections—August 29, 2007: Heirloom
A rather ugly oil painting hangs above the fireplace in my apartment. It’s a dingy still- life of a pot of flowers in one of those ornate period frames. I don’t know much about art, but even I can see that it’s, well, amateurish. You might ask why I would have such a white elephant around much less display it in a prominent place. The thing is, it belonged to my eccentric great aunt Narrye. Everyone in the family wanted to get rid of the horrid thing when she died. For reasons I wasn’t sure of at the time, I stepped in to become the the paintings’s self appointed guardian. Now, after years of hauling it around through multiple moves, I’ve developed a stubborn affection for it.
Perhaps it’s because my great aunt, like me, never fit into the family tradition. I grew up in a conventional East Coast family. It was expected that everyone would go to college, then get married and, if you were a man, pursue a stable career. If you were a woman you’d have kids and be a good wife and mother. Your marriage would last forever and your children would be polite and successful. As you can imagine my life doesn’t come close to fulfilling this vision
My great aunt was different too. I only visited her once when I was a child. She lived in an exotic part of the world known as Colorado. She had never married and lived alone. There were unconfirmed family rumors that she had been in love all her life with her married boss. The summer that I visited her I slept in a room decorated with photos of her riding camels in India. Her closets were filled with exotic clothing like ermine-tail capes and beaded velvet gowns. Perhaps best of all though, was the jade paperweight on her writing desk with her initials engraved in sterling silver on the top. It had previously been a custom crafted gear shift knob for her yellow convertible Packard.
It gives me a certain comfort that this dauntless woman was the relative for whom I was named. It’s like having a bit of company while traveling in a foreign land. I hope I inherited something of her spirit and independence along with her oil painting. And yes, I salvaged the paperweight too.
Reconnections—August 27, 2007: Learning to Love Fat
Fat. Go ahead say it, and notice your emotional response to the word. It’s probably either fear or revulsion. No one wants to be fat, look fat, or eat fat these days. We’ve been brainwashed into thinking fat is the enemy, the source of all chronic health problems including cancer and heart disease, as well as most of our self esteem issues.
Even many holistic health care practitioners, who are hip to the need for essential fatty acids in the proper ratios, admonish us to avoid saturated fat at all costs. The story we’ve been sold about saturated fat, (think butter, coconut oil, and animal fat,) is that it’s an indigestible artery clogging toxic sludge. Nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t have space here to go into the details and scientific research concerning this crucial area of dietary health. But I’ll give you some basic ideas and tell you where you can get reliable information.
First, saturated fat does not contribute to high cholesterol, nor does it cause heart disease. The saturated fat link to heart disease is a myth that has been promoted since the 1950s. There are many reasons why this theory doesn’t make sense. Heart disease and obesity did not begin their rapid rise in this country until we switched from traditional fats like butter and lard, to manufactured fats like liquid vegetables oils and margarine. Many researchers and doctors spoke up to challenge the propaganda about saturated fats, but the vegetable oil industry made sure they never got heard. The theory that saturated fat and cholesterol cause heart disease is based on a 1954 study by David Kritchevsky, in which he fed purified cholesterol to vegetarian rabbits then measured the plaque in their arteries. One of the many problems with his research was that the cholesterol used was highly processed and oxidized. Perhaps a better conclusion to be drawn from this study is that damaged cholesterol contributes to heart disease.
Second, the low-fat diet craze is a disaster. Lack of good quality dietary fat causes weight gain, (often from overeating carbohydrates in an attempt to satisfy cravings,) as well as a host of mood disorders including depression. The brain needs fat and cholesterol to function properly.
My recommendations about dietary fat are as follows: 1) Eat traditional fats like butter, lard, and coconut oil. 2) Use cod liver oil or a small amount of flax oil to obtain Omega 3 and Omega 6 essential fatty acids. You’ll need only a small quantity of these if the rest of your dietary fats are saturated. 3) Don’t cook with liquid vegetable oil (except for the occasional use of olive oil,) and avoid processed vegetable oils as a food ingredient. Check labels. Even those natural products that list “unrefined” or “cold-processed” oils are unhealthy. These oils oxidize in your body, and form dangerous free radicals that damage cells. Also, our cell walls need saturated fats to function properly. The body will use polyunsaturated oils (vegetable oil) as a second choice, but this causes improper cell metabolism and should be avoided.
For a lot more on this crucial subject, see the work of Mary Enig. She’s the premier expert on dietary fats, and the one who blew the whistle on the trans-fats found in partially hydrogenated vegetable oil. She has a great book out called “Eat Fat Lose Fat.” It’s easy to read, and packed with information. Another good source of information is the Weston Price Foundation, currently headed by Sally Fallon. Their work will expose you to a very politically incorrect version of how to eat, but the research is thorough and hard to dispute.
Reconnections—August 22, 2007: My Yaris
I had decided it was time to replace my trusty Subaru Outback. The car I set my sights on was the new Toyota Yaris: reliable, great gas mileage, and endearingly cute. I only had a certain amount of money to spend, so I had to be rigorous in defining my needs and holding firm on all the options. No, I didn’t need the rear intermittent wipers, nor the alloy wheels, nor the special mp3 player. Actually, when I really examined the matter, I didn’t even need the automatic windows and doorlocks. With a 2 door hatchback of such diminutive stature, it’s pretty easy to roll the windows down with an old fashioned crank.
So I had this car pretty pared down and was feeling oh so efficient when the salesman asked me what color I wanted. “Red,” I said blithely. How hard could that be? I had looked at the color options on the website and all the others were downright ugly. So red it was to be.
A week later, the salesman was back on the phone telling me a woeful tale about how hard it was to find a red Yaris. He had white, he had blue, he had a red one with a billion fancy options. But no simple red Yaris. Would I be willing to compromise on the color? I felt 50 years of compromising close in around me like a suffocating weight. “For God’s sake, Narrye, it’s just a car,” I argued with myself. “What difference does it make what color it is?” But then some immovable force rose up in me, kind of quiet-like, but absolutely resolute. “No,” I said. “No compromising on the color. I’m perfectly happy to wait until you can find me the color I want. Take all the time you need.” And like tectonic plates shifting, I stepped into another world.
Stepping into this world of clarity about what we need and want is one of the many gifts of midlife for women, many of whom have spent a lifetime putting the needs of others first. Of course, when our children are young it’s essential to put their needs first. But there comes a time, when the kids have left the nest for instance, when you can begin to put yourself back in the picture. I realized that this Yaris is the first car I’ve ever bought for myself that was solely for my own needs. I didn’t think about whether the kids’ bikes would fit in the back, (decidedly not,) or whether the backseat would be comfortable for passengers, (it turns out it is.) When my ex-husband looked at it he remarked that it was “awfully small.” “Right,” I replied. “Just my size, and fortunately you’ll never have to drive it!”
So there it sits, my Yaris, visible in the driveway from my upstairs window, a jaunty symbol of authenticity and personal style. And did I mention that it’s red?