Nourishment

This morning sitting in bed with a cup of tea, I felt another shift in my psyche towards freedom. It's a beautiful day, fresh and sunny. As I type this, I can hear a myriad of birds singing. There is a promise of spring, my own mind is going through her own green shoots of new life.

As a teenager I had anorexia and those days of starving myself are long over but a surprising realisation arose this morning that I had never seen before. All the years that I believed the mistruth that I wasn't supposed to be here, I also believed that my body didn't need nourishment. I saw it as an optional extra, nice to have, but not essential. Don't misunderstand me, I ate and ate well but mostly for comfort and I consumed a disproportionate amount of processed food, cake and chocolate.

I grew up in a house where there were a lot of sugary foods. Meal times could be very tense affairs. If it was one of the frequent times when my mum was angry with me, then nobody spoke to me during the duration. The only enjoyable eating experience of childhood was sitting on my own on the lounge floor with a bag of sweets. As a child of primary school age, my brain associated this as a ‘nourishing ‘ experience and not the one of traditional food which I rejected.

It sounds so simple and obvious now, but our relationship with food runs very deep. It can be such a sensual and soothing experience. Last night I did some simple cooking and experimented with a spur of the moment spice paste. It felt so grounding and calming. It was nourishing not just for my body, but for my soul.