Strong movie rec + the time I ate too many PB&B's
a welcome wade back into The Isolation Journals
American Symphony blew me away and then some. I can’t point to a specific moment, line, or scene that led to my barrage of tears when the credits rolled, but I think that was the point. It spoke so intimately and fearlessly about what it means to be human, and about the magical properties of music that allow us to express that which there are no words for. I feel forever changed by the thoughtful, bold storytelling choices of Matthew Heineman. And, to say the least, I am an enormous fan of both Jon Batiste and Suleika Jaouad.
Shortly after watching, I queued up the aptly-timed Rich Roll interview with Suleika, which delves far beyond American Symphony, deeply exploring Suleika’s experience with devastating illness and the certainty of uncertainty that it wreaks on an individual and those who love them. They explore many topics, from accessing creative flow from a hospital bed to the power of manifestation. What stands out to me, above all, is Suleika’s beautiful and courageous willingness to dance with the ambiguity that comes with indefinite cancer treatment—and the impact that has on her daily decisions and outlook. Two quotes in particular stood out to me, the first of which refutes the idea that living every day as if it’s your last is good advice:
I've shifted to a place of trying to live every day as if it's my first, which is to say waking up with a sense of curiosity and wonder that a newborn baby might. And rather than seeking out these like huge important life moments, seeking out moments of play and tiny little joys and moments of nourishment. And that has made it such that I feel like I'm moving through this uncertainty in a way that doesn't put me in panic but places me in a state of of wonder and awe and generosity.
and a little later on:
You know, David Brooks talks about resume virtues in contrast to eulogy virtues, and I'm living for the eulogy virtues right now.
Such clarity in her words. I’m living for the eulogy virtues right now. What are your eulogy virtues—those that are remembered and celebrated as you leave your existence on Earth for something else? Some that come to mind for me are honesty, openheartedness and curiosity.
After listening, I immediately signed up for Suleika’s newsletter,
, which nurtures several creative communities. I’ve interacted with Suleika’s writing prompts sparsely in the past—Sierra shared them with me regularly during the onset of the pandemic (what a time, truly), and my friend and mentor Jess resurfaced them mere weeks ago in a comment in a recent post. I’m looking forward to receiving them regularly, as Suleika’s words on the power of journaling—and the shift in perspective that the right prompt can provide—caught my attention!In honor of a mind-altering documentary and the people whose stories are told throughout it, I thought I’d give the latest prompt from The Isolation Journals a shot. It goes like:
Write about a time you realized you were struggling. What prompted the uncovering? What resources did you turn to in the wake of it? What is your relationship with that particular struggle like today?
Hmmm, a few things come to mind here, so I’ll go with the first one that arrived.
So I really like the combination of bread, peanut butter, and bananas (Sierra will tell you this is an understatement). Some combination of these three has served as a comforting nighttime snack for a long time.
For a good chunk of this long time, though, I had to somewhat do battle with these ingredients—they were my “I’ll eat the whole bag” type of food.
My moment of realization came to me one night in Boulder when I prepared and consumed not one, but three sizeable PB&B sandwiches shortly after dinner. The problem wasn’t the number of sandwiches, but that I didn’t want to eat the second and third ones. I still remember that night with clarity—specifically, the feeling of my body preparing the next sandwich while my awareness hovered somewhere next to it with no control, my mind nervously murmuring that I’d regret this before getting out of the way of whatever compulsions were present.
It was a binge, a binge I regretted and judged myself for (I was a little less good at self-compassion back then—for example, looking back, I was running a ton and perhaps not fully nourishing my body without knowing it).
What this evening prompted was a clearer insight into how much I had been battling with myself over food-related cravings over the course of not months, but years. In other words, even on nights when I limited (limited is a key and not-so-great word here) myself to one PB&B, I was thinking about the second while I ate the first, and already calculating whether I needed to buy more bread or not. So while I technically “cracked” on this one particular binge night, in reality, I had been experiencing a lower level of chronic anxiety and tension around food for quite some time.
I felt awful physically and mentally that night (food hangovers are so real). I don’t like to think of it as this singular epiphany-type moment, but I do see it as a blurry line in the sand after which I was able to confront the reality of my situation more honestly.
What did I do? A combination of things, in a sort of DIY manner. I learned more about binge eating—what is this behavior anyway, should I call it binge eating, what types of things tend to cause it, etc. I grappled more closely (journaling!) with deeply rooted memories from childhood and college—this revealed a trail of breadcrumbs that made me feel like these behaviors hadn’t emerged all so rapidly. Meditation has helped immensely, and continues to do so, as the mere noticing and allowing of cravings is a critical step in being able to create space (and usually better decision-making) within them.
The best thing I did was admit my pent-up embarrassment—to my sister especially, to Sierra, and to quite a handful of people since. First with a hot face, followed by a rapid rush of relief. Whether it’s compulsive eating or self-consciousness about the size of my chest, I’ve found that naming it to someone else, out loud, has had the effect of almost instantly dissolving the associated tension and neuroticism. This is kind of shocking, as I’d expect there to be more “deep” work needed, and maybe there is (there definitely is), but it’s allowed me to reframe my relationship with a number of things quite quickly. Nowadays, in fact, I think I enjoy talking about weird things I struggle with that I think I shouldn’t be struggling with. Is there a more common theme of the human condition? After all, I’ve gotta stick to my eulogy virtues.
The silliest (and my favorite) part of all of this? I still eat PB&B on toast almost every night before bed! I haven’t had to ban bread from our cupboards or avoid being around peanut butter. I don’t think bananas ever leave our grocery list, because every time we buy them we already need more. I see this as a good outcome—that I’m able to engage with something I still very much enjoy but without as much of the craving or compulsion attached (in other words, I can actually enjoy it!). Rather than have these things remain as trigger foods, I’ve worked on framing them as nourishment, and this tends to evaporate the want for more, more, more. To be sure, I’ll definitely have one or two spoonfuls too many of peanut butter from time to time, but I find myself in the extremes less and less.
This reshaping of relationship (or rewiring, as Suleika’s post puts it) took a long time, and I never expect to have a perfect relationship with food anytime now or in the future. Who does, and what would that even look like? Rather, I see this as a good example of curious confrontation beating out shameful repression. It could be late-night sandwiches or a million other things—particularly ones that may not seem at all like the source of struggle on the surface, but might be sending a quiet signal somewhere deeper down. The opportunity to heed these signals—to retrace steps and seek support from ourselves and others—never leaves us, and that gives me some hope on a day like today.
Thank you
for wringing a few drops of vulnerability out of me today! I look forward to many more ☺
Agree 100% with all of it! The song “It Never Went Away” remains my daily listen ever since. An outstanding movie on so many levels.
A far as binges go, you’re so right. What is normal? Enjoy life and laugh a lot, moderation and meditation. A formula for fun! Thank you for another thought provoking blog! 🥰