For a long time, I thought of myself as someone who thrived off of being busy, very busy. At the least, I knew that I tended toward being hyper-productive, which felt sort of like the same thing. When I look back now on my post-bacc years, or my last two years at FSG, when I was working full days, taking pre-req classes at night, and blogging into the wee hours, I’m not sure how I got it all done. Surely being busy must have come naturally to me, if I chose it so decisively and for so many years?
I’m honestly not so sure. More and more, I wonder if hyperactivity is a hiding place, a way of avoiding being quiet with myself. I have no proof of this, except the fact that it’s not always easy for me to say who I am, apart from what I produce or do. And the fact that, as soon as things settle down, sadness invariably creeps in, which makes me eager to dive back into the fray.
Lately, though, my experience of being busy has changed. The quick pace and full plate that used to give me energy tends nowadays to overwhelm me, and I find myself looking for an escape route. I realized this last year, when I caught more colds and viruses than I had since childhood. The busier I became, the more pesky illnesses I seemed to contract: if it wasn’t a sniffle, it was a sinus infection, or an ear infection, or acute gastroenteritis. At some point it seemed obvious that I was desperate to slow down, and my body had figured it out, even if my conscious mind was slow to catch on.
I wonder if, rather than being a naturally very quick and hyper-productive person, the opposite is true, and I’m in fact someone who needs a lot of time and space in which to rest and recharge. Or maybe both things are true a the same time. Either way, it makes for an interesting theory.
This week, I’m sharing an article about women and exhaustion that’s well worth reading. The author notes that “there are some people who are naturally more energetic than others, and may have a higher ‘setpoint’ for stress. This stress tolerance also ties into questions of resiliency, which is a huge hot-button topic in psychiatric research.” I’ll avoid making big declarations about whether or not I’m at this end of the spectrum or the opposite end; one thing I know for sure is that our tendencies can shift around, and the behaviors that serve us at one point might become an impediment later on.
Right now, though, my stress setpoint is unmistakably low. This was proven last week, when what should have been a fairly manageable difficulty sent me into a tailspin of anxiety and panic. It was unsettling, mostly because I’d been thinking that the work I’ve been doing for the last few months had finally started to pay off in the form of newfound happiness and equilibrium. It would seem that whatever equilibrium I’ve unearthed is still pretty delicate. Or rather, it’s dependent on my life being arranged in a certain way.
I’m trying to simply acknowledge that this is so, without diving into my usual, tiresome spin of self-criticism. I’m reminded of a moment nearly a decade ago, in ED therapy. I can’t remember what exactly I said to my therapist, but the gist of it was that I didn’t feel that recovery was moving at a brisk enough pace for my liking. She paused to ask me how many years I’d been struggling (thirteen), then gently suggested that perhaps the habits and tendencies I’d spent over a decade cultivating would not resolve themselves entirely within, you know, a few months.
I suppose the same is true now. Self-discovery, self-help, mindfulness, healing–these things really do take time. And little breakthroughs are often met with humbling reminders that we are still very much at the start of what’s going to be a long journey. The last week has given me cause to remember my own words: recovery is a practice.
On that note, some wonderful food and reads.
I’m just loving Ana’s creamy cauliflower soup with mustard roasted chickpeas–I can’t imagine anything more comforting or tasty for fall. (And I’d probably love anything involving mustard roasted chickpeas.) It’s also making me excited to whip up a batch of my roasted cauliflower and parsnip soup, an old favorite which has been retired for way too long.
I love the addition of miso to hummus, and the idea of adding it to edamame hummus sounds more intriguing still. Alana’s miso edamame hummus with baked furikake sweet potato chips is all things savory, crunchy, and salty. Yum.
Fresh fig season seems to be over already here in New York, which is making me sad. I had all of these grand plans for baking a fig cake, and then poof–they were gone. But in any case, I can take comfort in thinking about figgy things to make next year, and at the top of the list will be Heather’s quinoa, fig, and mint salad. So simple, fresh, and beautiful to look at.
Tofu scramble is one of my go-to breakfasts, and no matter how many times I make it, I’m always on the hunt for new recipes. My latest favorite is the lovely Ella’s 5-minute turmeric tofu scramble, which is just so simple–the kind of savory breakfast that’s realistic for a busy weekday morning. This is also a good moment to say that Ella’s book, Cut the Sugar, is full of tasty plant-based and gluten-free recipes that are every bit as easy and accessible as this one! A great investment if you’re looking to enjoy sweets with less and/or natural sweetener.
Speaking of sweet stuff, Amy has outdone herself with this decadent vegan twix tart–stuffed with layers of chocolate, coconut caramel, and vegan shortcake. Is it too early to start thinking about holiday gifts?
1. Many food bloggers, myself included, were reading Smitten Kitchen long before we’d considered writing our own blogs. I’ve always been a fan of Deb Perelman’s smart, honest writing and her wholehearted approach to food. From Deb, I’ve learned the art of perfect oven-roasted tomatoes, clumpy granola, and having a sense of humor about cooking.
So, I was excited to read Deb’s reflections after a decade of food blogging. She talks about how dramatically the landscape of food blogs has changed, which made me somewhat nostalgic for my own early days of blogging, circa 2009-2010. I miss the collegiality of blogging back then, the shared excitement and community. I also miss a blogging landscape that felt more hobbyist than professional–which isn’t to say that I haven’t professionalized my own blog over time. It’s just a pang for what was a very different online experience.
Deb has wise words for anyone who wants to start blogging nowadays, and she validates the urge to write about food so gracefully:
2. While we’re talking about culinary lives and people who lead them, I enjoyed these facts about Julia Child, courtesy of The Awl. Of course few culinary figures are more beloved and well-biographied than Child, but there are many details of her story that I actually don’t know, and this list helped to fill in some of the gaps. I was interested to learn that she defied her father’s expectation of “a conventional life,” starting with work as an intelligence researcher and later, of course, as a chef. And I had no idea that she helped to develop a shark repellant.
I was also inspired to learn that cooking is a craft Child discovered and honed only as an adult; she began culinary school at 37. As someone who feels as though I’m still very much in the process of figuring out who I am and what I want, both professional and personally, I value reminders that life is long and the opportunities for self-discovery are many.
3. So, we’ve all read our fair share of lists of life guidance from women to women. But Jo’s recent list of 15 career tips from smart and passionate women struck me as richer than most, and I loved reading it. Some highlights:
Of those, Ephron’s really stood out. I’m prone to assuming not only that I will be forever as I am (a grim prospect when I’m feeling particularly frustrated with myself), but also that every feeling, experience, and emotion is destined to last forever. Lately I’m trying hard to hang onto the idea that things are always changing, always in motion; my feelings, be they pleasant or painful, are not destined to last forever, if only because my outlook is likely to shift over time.
4. A new research study suggests that stress may have a greater impact on pro-inflammatory responses than food selection. The implication of the study is that the benefits of healthful eating can be outweighed by stress and anxiety.
I find this totally unsurprising, though I’m glad the topic is getting attention. In my work, I see time and time again that stress–including, unfortunately, the stress associated with eating healthfully–can seem to override the benefits of wholesome food. I suggest this to my clients, many of whom are prone to fretting about precisely what to eat, what not to eat, when to eat, and how to eat. The suggestion is often greeted with resistance, because in some ways it’s easier to obsess over what we’re eating than it is to ask ourselves why we’re stressed, or anxious, or so fixated on food in the first place.
It’s not that I don’t think selecting wholesome foods is important. It’s simply that the pressure attached to healthy eating can create stress that is–in a very real, and possibly measurable way–more harmful to our bodies than a couple of sub-optimal food choices would be. For this reason, I think that our definition of “healthy” eating should include not only what foods are selected, but also what frame of mind and emotional state we bring to the act of eating. The healthiest meal at any given moment isn’t always the one that features the most nutrient-dense ingredients: sometimes it’s the one that gives us the most pleasure or comfort.
5. Speaking of stress, a really interesting article, written by a psychiatrist who lives and works in the high-octane D.C. area, about chronic fatigue among women. The piece begins with a provocative question and equally provocative answer:
Kim goes on to detail the impact that work, motherhood, and care-taking have on women’s mental and physical health. I appreciate that the article takes a multi-faceted perspective. Kim addresses women’s propensity to place the happiness of others above their own fulfillment; of some of her former patients, she writes, “Their identity almost seemed invested in their self-sacrifice, even self-annihilation.” It’s a tendency I see all the time in my own counseling work, too.
As she acknowledges this predisposition, which is probably culturally enforced, Kim also takes interest in the biological factors that make women more prone to fatigue and exhaustion:
She notes that women’s vulnerability to burnout and exhaustion is also a product of financial circumstance and resources:
This isn’t to say that men don’t also grapple with exhaustion, stress, depression, anxiety, and more. But Kim makes a good case for women’s particular susceptibility.
Last spring, I came face to face with the fact that I was exhausted. I don’t mean this in the sense that I felt tired, as if I needed better or more sleep, or a vacation. I mean that I felt empty, as if I had nothing left to give anyone anymore, myself included. The word exhausted can be defined as “the condition of being very tired,” but it has another meaning, which is “the act of using up completely.” I think this is the feeling of being “drained” that so many women describe. And it’s precisely that feeling that has–along with other forces–encouraged me to re-examine how I live my life.
If you’ve been struggling–as so many people do–with feeling worn down, used up, drained, or empty, then I encourage you to check the article out. It may be nothing you don’t know, but it helped me to see this problem more clearly, and to understand it a little better.
Alright, friends. Enjoy the reads, and I’ll be back soon with some seasonal fare. It’s autumn, finally and really.
This week has flown by, as weeks before or after big holidays tend to, at least for me. I was pretty sick the week before Thanksgiving last year–an unwelcome visit from acute gastroenteritis–so I never had a chance to really plan or enjoy a vegan menu for sharing. I barely managed to get my vegan sweet potato and lentil shepherd’s pie ready for dinner at Steven’s grandmothers’ place. I’m feeling well this year, which means that I can indulge my usual excitement about…
I’m perched upon my sofa right now in a sea of pre-holiday mess: as-of-yet-unwrapped gifts, Scotch tape and scissors on the floor, a Christmas tree that needs watering and has been shedding needles without subsequent vacuuming from me, a countertop covered in flour for the bread that probably needs longer to proof than I have time to give it. There are unwashed dishes in the sink, work emails I meant to send before Christmas and didn’t, cards I wanted to mail to friends…
Last Sunday, I came clean about being stuck in a cycle of repetitive, anxious thoughts. My friend Maria shared the following response: When I was in my thirties, I had a therapist who suggested something that sounded really counter intuitive to me about my fearful thought patterns. She said that when I started into a worrying self-critical spiral, instead of getting frustrated or mad at myself, to say “thank you” to myself. “Thank you” to that part of myself that was trying to…
This was one of those weeks in which nothing, big or small, went according to plan. From travel delays and disastrous commutes to missed deadlines and forgotten emails, it all felt like a mess. Funnily enough, I was OK with it. It’s funny only because I don’t typically handle curveballs well. Anything that reinforces my lack of control tends to addle me at best, freak me out at worst. This week, though, the rarest of things happened, which is that I greeted all…
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I’m really loving your weekend readings lately, Gena. Thank you for continuing to share more of your process. I find that I too can definitely relate to the need to be managing multiple big projects and simultaneously needing more rest than I think I do.
I look forward to these insights & articles every week. And I never want to stop letting you know that! 🙂 The last one in particular really hit me, related to work I’ve been doing with Spright and things on the mind, in general. Thanks, gal!
Thank you for these thoughts and links! I always love your Sunday posts. I struggle with some of the same things you’ve been talking about lately, so this post really resonates with me. Years into my own ED recovery, I find myself noticing how the underlying depression and anxiety can show up wearing so many different disguises, ultra-business being one. I often want to cope by thinking less about food, not more – but your perspective (comprehensive, empathetic, fact-based!) has helped me change the way I think about food for the better. No small thing. Thank you for sharing.
Once again, I love everything you’ve shared (and thanks for including my Twix tart, by the way!)
I definitely have a low threshold for stress and am easily tired. My idea of busy week is probably another person’s idea of a very slow week or even a week off! But to me, it’s my limit and has been since I can remember. My doctor diagnosed me with chronic fatigue but that doesn’t really help much, since that doesn’t include any treatment or helpful advice. It’s hard not to feel lazy and pathetic sometimes. But anyway, it’s great when you can be self-aware without being self-critical, as you say.
I also loved that Smitten Kitchen post, so much inspiration!
I call this pattern of needing to “do” constantly “shark disease” — the idea that if you stop swimming at a good pace, you just sink to the bottom. (This is not true for all sharks; only some.) And I identify with the stress baseline issue as the my body really hit a wall 2 years ago. I’ve since tried to get better about “me time” and “downtime” what what they mean.
When I read this article, I thought of you and your recent posts.
Thanks Gena, for another beautiful and thoughtful post. I studied under a drama teacher many years ago and was always so busy. Doing what, I don’t know. Studying. Working. Writing. I was also often unwell, sniffles, colds, migraines. One day the teacher addressed the class about taking care of ourselves. She said, disease is a body out of ease – dis-at- ease. It blew my mind. The body knows what the mind denies. It is a work in progress for me, I guess all of us, to find that balance. I love that you share your heart here. This space has been one of my favourite things discoveries since I began blogging. Thank you again.
Dear Gena, what a beautifully honest post, and so timely, as Fall is the time for dying back, letting go and honoring what is played out. I know these are not easy things to face, but you describe them so well that once again, the weekend reading is framed so perfectly with your heartfelt words. I really loved that cauliflower soup and bookmarked it. I spent some time on the last two reads as well, and I have to say they gave me good food for thought. Sorry about the pun. I was glad to see in the one about stress though that it was admitted they didn’t test with a VERY healthy meal–because in my experience if I am already stressed it only makes it worse to eat such a high fat meal, no matter where the fat comes from. . .that is not to say stress is not powerful, perhaps more powerful than we like to admit, but food is powerful too. It got me thinking though that it really does depend on how you approach the food. .if it is approached in a tizzy over what is right and what is wrong, then, well, that may stack the deck. . .so it’s an interesting conundrum. . .I will “chew” on it some more. . .Also will let percolate the last article’s somewhat dismissive stance on “resilience.” I hold the ability to be resilient in very high esteem, but I don’t think of it as being resilient in order to “keep up.” Resilience is, to me, that ability to bounce back into one’s authentic self, the best place from which to cope with the world–or at least a place where that can be accessed. So again, thanks for giving us good food and good food for thought. Lots of love to you–and patience for the practice. xoxo
Thanks for sharing all this wonderful information. I welcome it with wholeheartedness and I am encouraged. #onelove
As always – it feels as if you plucked the thoughts out of my brain and made them ever more so eloquent.
LOVED the recipes & the articles this week but this spoke to me the most:
“I suppose the same is true now. Self-discovery, self-help, mindfulness, healing–these things really do take time. And little breakthroughs are often met with humbling reminders that we are still very much at the start of what’s going to be a long journey. The last week has given me cause to remember my own words: recovery is a practice.”
Gretchen Rubin talks about how habits are at once so strong and also so very fragile. It’s been a tough lesson to keep in mind and also a powerful inspiration as I continue grappling with making & keeping self-care a top priority.
Thanks so much my dear for including me in your lovely list 🙂
I feel you on these rough times… I have struggled with anxiety, panic attacks and mood swings in most of my 20’s and this only resulted in me getting a rare and difficult illness… so obviously I didn’t learn much through those times. BUT, eventually I relearned everything from how to eat, sleep and talk to myself and take care of myself and just be patient through it all.
I am sure that things will work out for you wonderfully, I know it 🙂
If you ever do need a friend to chat things with, do write to me and we’ll grab a tea and hang out any time 🙂
Sending big hugs!!!
Thank you again for sharing such intimate insights, Gena. I too have started to feel that I keep myself busy because then I can avoid myself and, more directly, the “tough” emotions I don’t want to face.
I also have struggled for more years than I’d like to admit. Thanks for reminding me not to give up. Slow is still progress.