Dining with Dignity — When Table Manners Reveal Who We Are

If you’ve never experienced a Larabar…you’re missing something wonderful in your life.

Trust me.

As a recovering sugar addict, I am always on the lookout for something sweet that is also healthy. Not an easy task.

So was I ever excited when my daughter told me about Larabars. Check out these delicious flavors (and feel great about indulging in them!)

I do.

In fact, when I bite into a Larabar I honestly feel like I’m eating with dignity. You know, eating to fuel my body (and relishing every single flavorful crunch along the way.)

I think that’s the way we’re supposed to eat.

Eat to fuel our bodies.
Relish the food we eat.

And…

Eat in the company of others (and with a mind toward sharing with others.)
With dignity.

Author Chris Seay has just released a new title, A Place at the Table: 40 Days of Solidarity with the Poor, and boy, did it ever give me food for thought.

Seay invites readers to take 40 days to approach eating in a different way. He ask individuals to carefully set aside their former eating habits and begin afresh (and be willing to sacrifice some) in the process.

His book is a journey of sorts on rethinking how we fill ourselves with food (too much food) while much of the world goes hungry.

Seay notices something about today’s man and woman…they dine without thought, care, or even enjoyment. Here’s an excerpt…

I have observed that frenetic people dine in a way that is hurried, distracted, and apathetic about the things that matter most. I have also observed that people who eat intentionally, taking time to savor flavors and engage the people around them, realize they are nourishing both their bodies and souls. This posture overflows into other areas of their lives, and they seem to live from a spring of wisdom and peace.

Which came first, you wonder: the frenetic life or the unfortunate table manners? Thankfulness for the meal or a generous spirit? Hard to say, but it seems our conduct around the table is more than just an indicator that something in our life has gone awry; it is an all-out warning that we need to make some changes, to check our priorities.

I know there are times when I eat on the run…times when I don’t have any choice.

I also know that some of my most memorable moments have happened around a table sharing wonderful food with someone I love (at a pace that allows everyone to relax.)

Dining in a way where we are sharing more than food; we’re sharing hopes, and fears, and dreams….fueling us inside and out to make a difference.

That’s what I call dining with dignity.

Question: Why I love medicine? Answer: What’s not to love?

WebMD

When the journalist issued a call-out for people across the country to answer this question…

Why I love medicine?

I was itching to send off an immediate answer.

There was only one problem…I didn’t qualify.

Since I’m not a “medical professional” my answer wouldn’t have counted in this journalist’s survey.

Sadness.

Because honestly, given my recent history of being in the operating room as a patient (and as an observor) I feel my experience ought to count for something, right?

Maybe yes.
Maybe no.

All I know is this…IF I was qualified to respond to this writer’s request for information, I would say this…

I love medicine because:

It is one of the most remarkably fascinating areas of study on the planet.
It is continually changing, growing, and expanding…never a dull moment.
It is people-friendly (and exists to impart a higher quality of life to all.)
It is dynamic and high-energy (attracting those with a committment to excellence.)

These are the first response “It is…” but on a more personal level…

I love medicine because:

It has changed my life for the better.

Guest Post by Lisa Grey — Pink Kitchen Books

In late 2011, one of my dearest friends was diagnosed with breast cancer and for the first time in my life, “breast cancer” became personal to me.

My friend Denise decided to share her journey with others and as she does so, this brave and remarkable woman imparts lots of encouragement and practical information along the way.

I never realized (or took the time to consider) how much information a woman fighting breast cancer has to digest…too much.

Still, Denise makes it palatable because she’s smart and funny and honest about the stuggle…and who couldn’t use more of these attributes?

As I read Denise’s work and started getting educated on the ins/outs of breast cancer, one aspect of fighting this disease kept popping up…nutrition.

Denise has talked about it, written about it, and found ways to ensure her diet fights her cancer. All of a sudden, eating well isn’t just a choice…it becomes one of the weapons to overcome a dangerous opponent.

On this note, I was delighted to read and review breast cancer survivor, Lisa Grey’s book on cooking up delicious and highly nutritious meals. Lisa’s story is below and you can find her books on her website.

Lisa created the Pink Kitchen for herself and for every other woman in the battle. I like what I read…and I think you will too.

Many people believe that being healthy takes too much time, talent, or money. The thought of all that extra effort is particularly overwhelming to a person who has battled cancer or another disease.

Lisa Grey knows a thing or two about nutrition. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, Lisa used nutritious foods and herbs to help her attack the disease. Her goal was to do whatever she could to destroy the cancer and keep it away.

When her tumor shrank in size just a few weeks later, doctors told her that ‘sometimes these things just can’t be explained.’ But Lisa believes that the explanation is good nutrition!

Since then, Lisa has had a passion for sharing simple, quick, and delicious ways to eat nutritiously…not only for breast cancer survivors, but for anyone overwhelmed with the prospect of healthy eating. Out of this passion, Pink Kitchen was born.

Whether you are a breast cancer survivor or not, it’s time to step into Pink Kitchen – where healthy cooking is delicious, affordable, and easy…even if you think you have absolutely no talent for cooking. So pour a cup of your favorite beverage and join us. There’s a kitchen stool here with your name on it!

Never Say Never — When Concessions Make Life Sweeter

Ali Anne Photography

Ahhh…the sweet naivety of youth (mine and theirs.)

I remember telling my mom right after my first child was born that I would never allow my kids to eat sugar (that statement was made twenty-six years and countless birthday cakes ago.)

I still remember her response. “Good luck with that.”

Determined though I was to only allow the choicest, healthiest morsels to pass my precious children’s lips…along came birthdays and holidays and vacations…and kaboom! all my good nutritional intentions (along with much of my parental dietary resolve) went out the window.

So…I decided to make a concession.

I adopted a more reasonable stance, no sugar (or accompanying junk food) unless it was a birthday, holiday or while on vacation.

I’m sure you see the problem with this compromise.

As you might calculate, with four children and Hallmark holidays running about every month…the alloted days for eating poorly kept inching its way up and up trying to derail me time and again.

I remember feeling like giving up over the battle of foods…but one small incident encouraged me to keep “shooting for the ideal while living in the real.”

During our weekly trips to the grocery store (what I consider a haven for possible diet destruction,) my kids were allowed to pick one treat. Not four treats…but one single coveted item that all four kids agreed on.

Don’t judge me too harshly…in lots of other ways my children’s lives were, “a piece of cake.”

What they chose surprised me. They asked for breakfast cereal of all things!

Of course, the cereal they viewed as a treat (because it’s so sugar-laden) is what lots of kids consume every day as their sole fuel source before school. For shame.

I remember questioning my kids…and yep, they wanted cereal, so it was cereal they got (but only eaten after a good meal and as their dessert.)

These days those particular food battles are history. Instead, I’m watching my daughter, “fight her own good food fight” with her little boy.

I’m so glad to be out of that specific fray…because honestly, it took something out of me every time I had to fight my own children to give them what was best for them.

And with some age, comes some sweet perspective.

Life is awfully short not to enjoy a piece of cake with someone you love on a semi-regular basis (or maybe even for no special occasion at all other than the pleasure of their company.)

Sometimes our concessions truly stand the test of time…and they make our lives sweeter in the bargain.

Choosing Your Poison with Care — Getting Hungry for Change

Are you hungry?

I am.

Hungry for a change in my life and diet and the way I feel.

This wasn’t the topic I had intended to write on today…but I got hooked after five minutes of watching the brand new documentary, Hungry for Change, which is available FREE through March 31st.

So instead of grabbing the remote tonight or tomorrow night…do yourself a big favor and watch this film instead. The content offered here might be one of the best steps you can take all year toward better health.

It will surprise you.
It will educate you.
It will shock you.
It will move you to action.

And let me remind you…it’s FREE.

Oh…and forward the link to the people you love most!

So You Want to Be the Boss? Think Again…

This morning I was quickly reading through my inbox and this headline caught my eye. “Big Chair, White Hair” by Christopher Smith of High Calling.

I liked this article so much I thought it worth sharing here…because Smith does such an excellent job capturing the reasons why some work conflicts exist and how a subtle shift in attitude (by employees and subordinates) would make a world of difference around the office (and lighten their boss’s load.)

See if you don’t agree –

I once attended a historic downtown church presided over by a distinguished older pastor. One Sunday, a young red-haired volunteer from the children’s ministry came up front to make a couple of announcements.

Before she finished, the pastor asked her to wait while he added something. He stepped forward to the pulpit microphone as she stepped back. Looking around on the platform, she saw the ornate central chair that was usually reserved for him and sat down in it with a satisfied smile.

Hearing laughter, the pastor turned around. “Young lady,” he said. “If you had the responsibilities that come with that chair, they would turn your hair as white as mine.”

Suddenly we all saw a lot more in the chair than we’d ever recognized before.

This experience gave me a new appreciation for the responsibilities that come with the perks and privileges that people in important positions enjoy. It’s easy for us to resent these things if we don’t realize all they represent. Why should the boss have such a big private office when the rest of us are in cubicles? Why does the boss breeze in late when we have to punch a time clock? Why is it “Yes, Ms. Jones,” and “Thank you, sir,” while we get called by our first names? Not to mention the limousines to the airport, the corporate box seats at sporting events, or the dinners with clients that most of us never enjoy.

Rather than interpreting these perks as unequal or unfair treatment, they may better be viewed as reminders of the responsibilities held by those in leadership—responsibilities that determine the future of our organizations, and ultimately our own livelihoods. Seeing things from this perspective might help us respect our leaders and cooperate with them better. Distinctions in titles, accommodations, and privileges may actually be essential for the stability and morale of an organization.

I wonder how often employees grumble when their boss is given the honor due him?

I also wonder how often employees would be willing to take on that same responsibility that their bosses do?

Sitting in the white chair may have its perks…but it also comes with a price.

Be glad your boss is willing to pay it.

How Does Your Fear Bleed Out?

Bleeding out. It’s a medical term that I first heard explained to me many years ago when one of my good friends worked in the ER of a local hospital.

Bleeding out…it can happen suddenly and fast.
Bleeding out can kill a person before they get the help they need.

While all precautions are taken to ensure patients don’t bleed out in the ER or (OR) it still happens.

When it does, it hurts those individuals who loved the person who bled out as well as those medical professionals who were in charge of caring for the patient.

That much I know from my friend’s reaction when it happened on her watch.

Bleeding out when it relates to the physical is bad.

Bleeding out when it relates to our emotions can be quite the opposite.

Let me explain.

One week ago today, I went to an appointment and received news I didn’t expect. In fact, as I sat opposite this nice doctor and he explained that both of my shoulders were unstable, I kept thinking, “This cannot be happening…again.”

I left his office and held it together (on the outside) but inside, my mind was already formulating a way to get out of the inevitable.

I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to cry…I was determined to remain stoic and just accept the news with good grace (and no emotional response.)

Well, that lofty intention lasted all of about fifteen minutes before stoicism gave way to a flood of tears.

If there was a way to “bleed out” through crying…I did it.

And the funny thing is…once I cried my tears and accepted the fact that this part of my journey toward stable health (and shoulders) wasn’t over…more bled out than emotion…my fear bled out too.

Lately, I’ve been lamenting the curse of being a middle-aged woman with all its accompanying hormonal shifts…but last Monday when I cried…I realized how glad I was to be a woman who could cry rather than a man who finds it a lot harder to express this uber cleansing emotional response.

Tears that flow as easily as the blood pumps through our veins give us life…emotional life.

They can renew and strengthen us in ways we don’t fully understand (and we all know that healthy people understand the vital connection between strong emotional and physical health.)

So…here’s to tears that help wash away our pain, disappointment, and fears while making us stronger for what’s ahead.

Serving from the Power Position (finding my strength in weakness)

Strength.
Ability.
Power.

Don’t we all want to feel strong, able, and powerful?

I do.

But until recently I would never have discovered this about myself.

Then, I stopped sleeping…started hurting in a new and continuous way…and struggled to feel what I once took for granted. Healthy.

Strong.
Able.
Powerful.

More often than not, I feel a new awareness of –

Limitation.
Inability.
Vulnerability.

Whenever I go through something new…I try to figure out why and then how to get back to my previous “normal“…and boy, have I been trying.

Trying this and trying that…researching this and researching that…but the bottom line is this…

“This” uncomfortable place might be my new normal…so I better find a way to do the best I can, make the most of what I’ve got, and make peace with it.

I like what long-time diabetic sufferer, Randy Alcorn, writes about how we like to “choose” the way in which we “live” and “serve” others.

Through suffering we become powerless so that we might reach the powerless. We like to serve from the power position. We’d rather be healthy, wealthy, and wise as we minister to the sick, poor, and ignorant.

But…if we have little personal familiarity with suffering, the credibility gap makes it difficult to speak into others’ lives. Our suffering levels the playing field.

As a person who like to know and follow the rules (and values a level playing field)…I find this new season disconcerting to say the least.

And yet, I’m reminding myself that since life is always changing, none of us knows what is around the next corner (which can be a very good thing.)

Keeping hope alive and my faith intact is what will serve me best amidst hard days (and harder nights.)

Finding my strength in weakness…yep, it could happen.

The Little Ball of Hate Deep Inside My Neck

SciencePhotoLibrary

Earlier this week I saw my dentist and during the examination he pressed his thumb into the side of my neck. Hard.

Feel that?

Ahhh…yes.

That’s the “little ball of hate” and you have to work at diffusing it.

He continued, “every day work your hands over this nerve and try to knead out this area and your jaw will feel much better.” Promise.

That and wearing my bite guard 24/7. Sounds easy, right.

Believe me it’s not.

Though I’m complying with wearing the bite guard all day (every day) and through the night, I’m finding it much more difficult to locate that “little ball of hate” in my neck.

I work my fingers all over my neck muscles but I can’t seem to find the trigger point that my dentist had no problem locating.

Hmmm…reminds me of the trouble I sometimes have trying to locate (and diffuse) what’s really bothering me on the inside of my heart and mind.

Deep inside, I frequently have this “little ball of hate” swirling around and it’s set off by…

Nasty politics
Irresponsible Journalism
Exploitation of women and children
Media Sensationalism

To name a few.

In the same way I fumble around looking for the exact nerve that’s causing me pain, I struggle to find a way to diffuse my inner frustration with the larger “ills” of the world.

I know I can’t change everything, maybe not even a few things, but I can do one thing (a single small choice every single day) to make a difference.

Which is why I keep writing letters, keep making phone calls, and keep giving to organizations who “fight the good fight.”

I look at it this way. There are injustices in this world that I hate, hate, hate. But unless I’m willing to step out and speak up, that “little ball of hate” against injustice isn’t doing me or anyone else any good. I know the RX isn’t sitting around and feeling angry…it’s doing something.

Anything.
Any.
Little.
Thing.
Makes a difference. (In the world and inside of me.)

“Speak up for the people who have no voice, for the rights of all the down-and-outers. Speak out for justice! Stand up for the poor and destitute!”

Nothing Left to Lose (Everything to Live For)

A while back I wrote about a brand new album released by one of my favorite artists, Mat Kearney, and wouldn’t you know it, after I listened to his newest work I was disappointed.

Kearney remains a favorite of mine, but his third project, in my opinion, fell short of his previous two works.

Kearney’s newest album can be described in three words (words he used to describe it at a concert I attended right before its release.)

Young.
Dumb.
In Love.

No kidding.

Young Dumb and In Love, is one of his song titles. All kidding aside, I still love Kearney’s work and I’m sure I’ll buy his next album no matter what theme he decides to focus on because a few years’ back his first album, Nothing Left to Lose, met me at a particularly painful season of my life when my youngest daughter was living like, “she had nothing left to lose.”

For several years, my daughter’s life was perfectly represented by Kearney’s song, Girl America…and whenever I played it in my car, I had to hold back tears because it reminded me how little control I had in helping my daughter change the course of her life.

Over and over and over again, I’d listen and feel the desperation of a young woman who so wanted a different life but didn’t know how to get there…and there is nothing like losing a child to the culture of the day that will get a mom on her knees (and keep her there.)

Funny thing about music is that it truly is the door to people’s hearts…and when I would get frustrated with my daughter and feel like giving up on her, I’d hear this song again, and my heart would break another time…but in a good way…and I’d pick myself up and start over with her.

One day we were together in the car and Girl America came on, and she looked at me and said, “This is me!” Revelation?…turning point?…I hoped so.

I still remember that particular moment and the look on her face when she realized some artist had captured her struggle in the words of a song. Somebody “got her.”

Fast-forward several years and this song no longer even barely represents my daughter’s life. She truly is a new person living a new and better life. A living miracle!

I still listen to Kearney’s work in my car…and when I hear Girl America come on, it continues to evoke strong emotion in me…but now, that sadness is laced with hopeful expectancy.

Because now I know something.

I am more convinced than ever before that we don’t have to lose our kids to a dangerous culture…because I’ve watched my own daughter escape it and begin living…really living, one choice, one step, one day at a time.

Her mantra is no longer, “nothing left to lose” it is “everything to live for…”