The Part That Wants Food May Just Want You

There was a period early in my recovery from bulimia when I said a prayer before every meal.

It wasn't complicated. I'd sit for a moment before the first bite and let myself connect to something larger: the universe, the spirit of kindness, whatever it is that holds you when you need holding. Essentially, I was dedicating the meal to love.

In contrast, the traditional pre-meal prayer in mindful eating directs gratitude to farmers, the people who picked the food, the ones who carried it, the earth that grew it. This is lovely. To be clear, I recommend this prayer, but it's incomplete. It sends lovingkindness outward, but doesn't necessarily include the person who is praying.

Most of the people I work with around eating feel depleted. In fact, depletion and deprivation (emotional, nutritional) are the main reasons they have eating problems. Many have had personal relationships in which they gave more than they got back. Also, their inner critic may routinely make them feel despondent. When that person finally sits down to eat, what they need isn't one more opportunity to put energy out. They need to be replenished. They need to receive something.

I found out how much this mattered with a client I'll call Elena.

Elena had come out of a hard stretch: sick with a fever for over eight days, then straight back into a week with one obligation after another and no space in between. When things were quiet enough for her to come up for air, it was evening and she was alone in the house. She made herself dinner, put on a movie she loved, and let herself eat and watch. She ate more than she normally would have.

When we talked about it, she was almost apologetic. She hadn't been present with the food in the way we'd talked about in a previous session. She was not paying close attention to what she was eating or how she ate it. Since she and I talk about presence as an internal state that reduces overeating, she was worried that she'd done it wrong.

I didn't think she'd done anything wrong because she reported a real benefit to eating while watching: it had kept her company on a night she badly needed it. I invited her to relate to the event differently. If she could open up communication with the part of her that wants yummy food and movies, well, that's gold for recovery.

That's the thing an outward-facing blessing can miss. It's not wrong to thank the earth and the people who grew your food. But if you're one of the many people who eat their way through exhaustion, loneliness, or a day that took it out of you, gratitude alone won't reach the part of you that is feeling deprived. It's asking to be loved.

And the moment you stay with that part instead of trying to manage it, it's already getting what it asked for: you.

I want to be careful here. I'm not saying to stop paying attention to whether a behavior is harmful. I'm saying to focus on the issues of deprivation and filling a need when you think about the behavior. Before you decide whether you ate "right," ask what you actually needed that day — and whether you got it.

Sometimes the answer is love, delivered through a plate of food and a good movie, and that's not a failure of mindfulness. That might be exactly what you needed to be mindful of: yourself and your enjoyment.

Something to try

The next time you sit down to eat, any time, not just when things are hard, try a blessing that asks for something instead of only giving thanks. It doesn't need to be religious, and it doesn't need to be long. Something as simple as let this feed me is enough. Notice what it's like to ask your food, your body, or whatever you believe in, for something back. If you come up with a version of your own, I'd love to hear it.