Tracking Data with Compassion (The Weight Series)
I'm continuing my exploration of weight, wellness, and what it all means by taking a look at tracking data with compassion.
I'm continuing my exploration of weight, wellness, and what it all means by taking a look at tracking data with compassion.
First, a request: If you feel that this exploration would be unhealthy for you, please practice good boundaries and unsubscribe or stop reading. I know for many of us, and this certainly includes past-me, ANY conversation around weight can be triggering and upsetting. I don't want to cause problems for you, and would much prefer that you unsubscribe than find yourself in an unhealthy place because of something that I've written.
Here's what I've covered already if you want to catch up:
The Octopus wonders about weight… (introducing the series)
Body.Work: Deficiency and Congestion (thoughts on the flow of nutrients)
The Octopus sees nothing but knows all (calories aren’t real for your body)
The Octopus eats more than 400 calories (you’re allowed to eat until you’re full)
The Octopus can’t get no satisfaction (how to feel full and satisfied)
The Octopus eats a meal (what makes up a meal?)
The Octopus gets great mileage (individuality and the need to experiment)
Now, onward to tracking data with compassion.
As a nutritionist, I have some odd hobbies, one of which is data collection. I'm endlessly entertained by keeping track of what I eat and how it makes me feel. (Hey, I'm sure you have your own peculiar hobbies...) There's a trick to that, though. Because if I start losing compassion for myself, then it's no longer fun and interesting. Then it's just self-flagellation and a way of being cruel to myself.
So I have to keep my mind relaxed and non-judgemental. I have to look at my own food diary the same way that I'd look at that of my clients. "Oh, interesting what happened here. I wonder why that was?" is much more effective than "You stupid idiot, you should have had better willpower."
The thing is, it's taken me years to get here. Years. Years of deliberate practice, and years where I realize that I'm being mean to myself again and need to recommit to being compassionate.
But, as long as I maintain that deep compassion and kindness, exploring the connections between how I eat and how I feel is fascinating, and helps me to make adjustments that make me feel better and better.
I've learned that protein-containing dairy products give me terrible headaches, that wheat makes me bloated and exhausted, that (non-dairy!) protein is awesome, that using a sun-lamp in the winter is essential to my mental health.
FOR ME. These are things that are true FOR ME.
As I've written before, your mileage may vary. People have an enormous capability of adapting to different situations, and are all highly individual, so what makes one person feel fabulous will--I guarantee it--make another person feel terrible. This is why there's such a proliferation of popular diets and ways of eating. There's a decent chance that any sort of diet will work great for someone (at least for a while, until they get out of balance). The problem comes when that person tries to make it into the One True Diet for Everyone and for All Time.
The only way to know how you respond to how you eat is to pay attention, with compassion, and then to start looking for patterns. Plus, your body changes over time, sometimes in the blink of an eye, and so it's important to keep an open mind about whatever you've found out. You might have been able to digest beans fine in the past, but now they disagree with you. Or you might not have needed to consume many carbs ten years ago, but now you need to eat more.
I use an app, Lose It, to keep track of things, but only because I don't get triggered by having weight and calories displayed. At least, I don't right now--if that changes, you can be certain that I'll be making changes as well, ASAP, to protect my mental health.