Food, Water, Rest January 20, 2012

Chefs have this impeccable ability to push through most conditions, hunger, exhaustion, and extreme physical discomfort. I have cooked with a second degree burn, saute station, on a Saturday night. That’s a masochist for you. Stubborn as mules, and soft as pizza dough we think we can continue indefinitely. Im here to tell you, we cannot. We grow old, our bodies break down, our sleep patterns stay the same and we pull from a smaller and shallower reservoir of energy.
In these past months, almost two full years after my mothers death I felt irrationally crazy. Edgy, empty and lost, my sleep was elusive, I found my patience with everyone wearing thin. Not ok for a teacher, whos job is to swim in a sea of questions, as gracefully as possible.
In the midst of cooking for two weddings for chefs (intimidating) I met a lovely new friend. In the absence of spending *actual* time together we talked a lot over email. Also a writer/blogger we talked about feminism, food, books. It reawakened a part of myself I had lost to work and life. We developed a cute system of checking in; breakfast questions, accounts of exercise and daily activities. On a cellular level I remembered how good breakfast was. I slowly became less irritable, very slowly. I looked forward to spending a quiet hour to myself, eating.
Then came the questions about why I wasnt sleeping. Actually, the exact question was what my achilles heel was. And I honestly couldnt say, I was that far removed outside of my body that I had forgotten. Any disruption or lack of sleep just further fueled my inner asshole. Fall closed in, and I started to bundle up, crawl into bed with a book and force myself to wind down and get ready to sleep. Enduring the short period of impatience was worth it, every morning when I woke up far from exhausted and hungry. My body was slowly speaking to me again.
That last piece was tricky, I am notorious for wanting water and never drinking it, small cups of it laying around the house like tiny birdfeeders for some invisible companions. My morning coffee was joined by a glass of water, and my water bottle at work was always in sight…and lo….that complicated swirl of balance returned. The flashes of deja vu that had been missing, and the gut reactions I used to have came back.
One of my dearest friends, and her partner told me at my lowest point that when I felt destroyed, horrid, implacable that I should do a diagnostic check….food.water.rest. They are the tenets of self care that should never be forgotten, because they nourish our complicated beings on a cellular level, and those small atoms are so easy to feed or neglect every moment, every day.