Ceremonious Oats

A little over a year ago I was on an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety med that wasn't working anymore. Faced with the choice of either staying on it and upping the dosage, or dropping it and figuring out a more holistic way of maintaining sanity, I chose the latter.

One of my closest friends at the time had a knack for keeping his heart light. I told him about my plan to come off of the anti-depressant and he advised me to eat well. He said, "Make yourself a good bowl of oatmeal every morning. Oatmeal is my zoloft."

At the time I rolled my eyes. I made the assumption that my friend didn't know what real emotional pain was like if he thought oatmeal could soothe my crazy brains. Of course, it was only one part of the equation. It goes without saying that oatmeal is not the same as a serotonin reuptake inhibitor (like zoloft). With oatmeal, it's not a matter of chemistry but of simple process: there is value in the practice of preparing a good bowl of oats if you slow down and appreciate the ritual of it. This is true for just about any practice, but oatmeal is a good place to start.

Have you found that when you are stressed out, your eating habits change? Some people overeat and still feel sluggish. Others feel their stomachs become a bundle of nerves and can't eat at all. When we are in a state of stress, our body shuts down blood flow to the digestive system. If we eat anyways, the food tends to sit in our stomachs without being absorbed. We end up running on fumes, which makes the mind even more loopy.

So our mental state largely determines our ability to nourish ourselves, and our ability to nourish ourselves largely determines our mental state. Oatmeal simply taught me to start every day by getting my mind involved in the act of nourishment.

Have you ever experienced a flood of stress-thoughts as soon as you open your eyes in the morning? Sometimes it's a dream that leaves you unsettled before you're fully awake, or the long to-do list that's been running on a subconscious loop all night. Whatever the reason, take comfort in the fact that there is no one alive that has not woken up feeling like shit at some point. So you begrudgingly get your poor ass out of bed. You open the curtains. Some days are grey, and there isn't much sun to be let in, but you open the curtains anyways. This is an apt metaphor for the way life should be: open the damn curtains, and pay attention.

Go into the kitchen, put some water on to boil. Put the oats in your bowl. Are you paying attention? Or are you thinking about everything you have to get done today? Come back to the oatmeal: it is a blank canvas for whatever your body is craving. It is waiting to accommodate any combination of fruit, nuts, and yogurt.

Slice the fruit. Your mind wanders to something menial: how shitty your life is, or what you will wear to work today, to the job you don't really care for. Come back to slicing the fruit. Strawberries, mango, banana, apple? Your oatmeal is only limited by your imagination. Say to yourself "I am slicing fruit for my oatmeal. That is all." Because that IS all. Nothing else is happening right now. Focus on every gesture of the knife, how your hands work it. This focus not only calms your mind, but improves your knife skills. Smell the fruit, be aware of its lovely color. I like to use dried fruit - raisins or dried cranberries - in addition to the fresh stuff.

Add some nuts to your bowl. Now you are thinking about someone you have to call, or a mole you should get checked out. Come back to the oatmeal, to the nuts. Walnut halves, slivered almonds, toasted crushed pecans? It is good to start the day with some protein. I even go so far as to throw in a spoonful of plain Greek yogurt, though any kind of yogurt lends it more protein and calcium, not to mention creaminess and flavor. A little honey and sea salt also go a long way in relieving the oats of their blandness.

The kettle whistles. Did you notice its pitch before you shut the burner off, or the way the sound tapers off like a yawn as soon as the kettle starts to cool? Maybe you didn't, because you were thinking about the bicycle that someone stole, or the fact that your roommate has never once cleaned the tub. Gently remind yourself, again and again, to come back to what is happening right now. Laugh at yourself for having a monkey mind, and breathe.

I don't think nourishment is as simple as putting food in your mouth, even if it's good wholesome food. It starts with the preparation, which is not just preparation of food but preparation of mind. With patience and quiet attention we can learn to put ourselves in a mode of self-care first thing in the morning.

Your oatmeal is warm and filled with chunks of things you like to eat. It takes a little more time and effort than scarfing down a Dunkin Donuts bagel in the car on the way to work, but you get what you give: making this breakfast has been a kind of ceremony, and you haven't even started eating it yet.