Macrobiotics Today, July/August 1994, Vol. 34, No. 4
"Jumping In With Lead Boots" Sherry Armendariz
Diogenes spent his life looking for an honest man; I've spent mine looking for the right "diet." As a lusty teen, I sought leanness and swallowed grapefruit and eggs until they brought me to my knees.
That was me and my lantern - looking for perfection. I wasn't surprised by my weakened condition - I was used to that, having spent most of my life (and would another 20 years) in and out of hospitals and doctor's offices, where I'd hear nary a word about nutrition.
In my thirties I began to discover health. Interesting concept, but could I incorporate it into my daily life? Of course, it would mean struggle and sacrifice, but I - er - we (my family) would do it. For years I made bread, canned fruit, slaved over soups, until the collective tax deductions screamed, "Not another thing with sunflower seeds." I didn't just tiptoe around a lifestyle change, I jumped in with lead boots dragging behind me the reluctant screaming horde.
I wasn't looking for a food regimen; I was determined to find the ultimate "diet" (there's that dreaded word again), for all time, for all people, for my loved ones.
Then I met a healer who insisted on me only eating meat and vegetables, which he did with bloody gusto. I grew thin, the checkbook grew lean and my family thrived - we would pay the price on down the line.
From there I tempered to ground turkey. You might be surprised what one can make out of ground turkey - I take that back, most of you are soy experienced.
Finally, one day I crawled to the acupuncturist and she lightly talked of sailing ships, kidneys, Qi, and food. She gently suggested I consider giving up black tea. I ever so precisely told her she didn't know what she was talking about - caffeine didn't affect me at all. Being the flexible soul (until it comes to food) I am, I said I'd consider it. I stopped drinking caffeine and slept for three days.
It then magically occurred to me that this pathetic person might, just might, know what she was talking about. So when I returned and she softly suggested I eat more grains, I went along with it.
Within a month, she had me on a full-scale macrobiotic regimen, without ever using the word. She was so sneaky. If she had used that dreaded M word, I would have thought I had cancer - wasn't that the last resort diet for the soon to be dead? (I have never allowed my ignorance to dampen my enthusiastic bullheadedness!)
If she had suggested that Micro-something diet, I would have been awake at night dreading all the wonderful things (good food), I'd have to give up. But she didn't. She just kept telling me to introduce this great grain, and that delicious root vegetable. She tricked me into eating parsnips by telling me how sweet they were. The food list grew - grains I'd never heard of filled my pantry, sea vegetables doctored my soups, while other foods like flour fell away. She made it seem I was on this monumental food adventure unearthing all these magnificent tastes. All by myself, I discovered buckwheat was the best tasting grain on the planet and that the icky grain quiona, that turns into transparent bug eyes, deserves to be landfill.
I started tasting my food. I felt it on my tongue and in my stomach. I was again a three-year old, fascinated with how and what it looked like when it left my body. I felt full, I felt content, I knew I was home. After tousling with my family about eating this way, I finally realized that macrobiotics was my truth, not necessarily theirs. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.
I wasn't looking for the perfect or slimming diet; I was in search of harmony of body, mind, and spirit. I found it in macrobiotics. My family now all eats the big M - having come to the realization ON THEIR OWN without any boot kicking from Commandant Wife and Mom.
End of Article
Author bio-statement: Sherry Armendariz is a spiritual counselor, writer and gardener living in Gilroy, California
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