Curiosity Killed the Craving (and the Bingeing)

I used to binge on cookies.

Giant peanut-butter chocolate-chunk cookies. 

Each binge was followed by relentless self-attack and self-loathing...feelings of guilt, shame and weakness....and, of course, promises to never ever do it again.

Yet, somehow, despite my best intentions, I’d find myself right back in the same place days later. Standing in my kitchen in the dark shoving cookies in my mouth. Crumbs scattered on my shirt. Chocolate smeared across my face. Belly beyond stuffed.

I haven’t binged like that in years. 

I no longer experience such intense cravings.

It’s not because I have tremendous willpower.

It’s because instead of beating myself up, I became curious.

Instead of shouting at myself, “You have no self-control, you suck!,” I started gently asking myself, “Hey, what’s this all about? What’s going on here?”

By pausing and becoming compassionately curious, I was able to cultivate greater awareness for why I was doing what I was doing. 

Stillness coupled with expanded awareness is far more powerful than willpower. 

Often, before we can say "no," we have to understand why we say "yes." Every action has a positive intention and every action is to fulfill a need. 

When I finally understood what was driving my compulsion—a rigid diet, false persona, pleasure deficiency—and the deeper needs I was trying to meet, my binge eating ended. 

I stopped focusing on keeping sweets out of reach and started focusing on fulfilling my unmet needs and desires. When I quit depriving myself of food and the life I longed for, I no longer relied on cookies to give me something they were never meant to.

How can you bring more compassionate curiosity to your relationship with food?

Why I Couldn't Stop Eating Conversation Hearts

Valentine's Day reminds me of a time in my life when I couldn’t be left alone with a bag of conversation hearts without eating every single one of those pastel sugar bombs. And, thanks to handfuls of those cutely packaged Valentine’s Day mini candy bars, February afternoons at my corporate gig became much more bearable.
 
Of course, my sweet tooth didn’t rear its demanding, insatiable head just in February. Bingeing on sugary treats was a year-round occurrence back then. Eating them made me feel alive when I felt dead inside from doing unfulfilling, uninspiring work.
 
The less alive I felt, the stronger my desire was for quick hits of intense food. When I flatlined, sugar was my lifeline.
 
A Symbolic Substitute
For many of us, sugar is a symbolic substitute for fulfillment and freedom. For others, it’s salty snacks, fatty foods, booze or pot. These things take us to a place where we can forget--albeit temporary--about the dissatisfaction and discomfort in our lives. We use them to leave ourselves when life gets hard.
 
It’s not that these things are necessarily bad, or that we’re bad people for consuming them, or that they shouldn’t be a source of pleasure. Challenges arise when we rely on them to fulfill a need they were never ever meant to fill.
 
If this sounds all too familiar, what steps--big and small--can you take to feel more alive in your day-to-day existence?
 
How can you infuse more vitality into the realms of your life that feel lackluster and lifeless, whether it’s work, relationships, intimacy, physical movement, spirituality, personal growth, creativity, etc.?
 
Take a minute to write down all the things that make you feel more alive. Don’t hold back. 
 
A few items on my list include: aligning my passions and values with my career, running at sunrise, re-centering at yoga, challenging my body with a new workout, walking with a friend, reading a captivating book, learning new ideas, hiking along the coast, planning trips, exploring foreign lands, losing myself in a creative project, helping others, and connecting with my coaching clients.
 
What makes you come alive?
 
Remember, food can fill you up, but it can’t fulfill you.

Do You Control Your Appetite?

Naturally, after recently bragging to a gym mate about how I hadn't been sick in years, I was struck down with a nasty flu bug. My long list of symptoms included zero appetite. Not only was I not hungry, everything I ate tasted awful.

After nearly two weeks, I knew I was on the road to recovery when I woke up with a voracious appetite. It felt so good to feel hungry again. It felt exquisite to once again experience pleasure from food.

Controlling Appetite
This experience prompted me to reflect on the importance of appetite. So often, people ask me how they can control or suppress their appetite. It's common to view our appetite as the enemy, something that can't be trusted, something to fear, something that must be controlled.

When you think about it, however, your appetite is essential for life. It keeps you alive by telling you it's time to eat. Fighting it simply goes against the laws of nature.

Fighting your appetite often leads to intense cravings, overeating and binge eating. And, fighting anything puts your body in the physiologic stress response.

Yet, so many of us have been trained to believe that having an appetite is bad and that controlling it is good.

In Caroline Knapp's book, Appetites, she speaks of our culturally conditioned suspicion that "hungers themselves are somehow invalid or wrong, that indulgences must be earned and paid for, that the satisfaction of appetites often comes with a bill...appetites are at best risky, at worst impermissible...yielding to hunger may be permissible under certain conditions, but most likely it's something to be Earned or Monitored and Controlled. A controlled appetite, prerequisite for slenderness, connotes beauty, desirability, worthiness."

Your Appetite: Friend or Foe?
What's your relationship like with your appetite? Is it your friend or foe? Do you trust it, fight it, ignore it, override it? Are you grateful for it, or frustrated by it? Do you feel anxious when it calls, powerful when you restrain it, or weak when you cave into it?

Finding Your Natural Appetite
While it may take some time, it is possible to cultivate a relaxed, life-affirming relationship with your appetite. Doing so requires tuning into the wisdom of your body and trusting it to guide you--not some external forces or a belief that wanting food says anything about who you are as a person.