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Lisa HoustonWriter

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO US?

9/11/2020

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September 11th, 2020
There is such a thing as a collective trance state. It's a big part of what made Nazi Germany happen, and I think that's what is happening here among Trump supporters. That's why so many vote against their own interests. Logic doesn't matter, nor does emotion. The emotions are connected to "the leader" and logic is an outside force, and all outside forces are suspect. Even those who say they are one issue (abortion) voters, that issue does not explain their support of an amoral leader, unless you see that they have accepted this man and this man alone to solve this issue for them, they have accepted him as the only solution.

The Republican Party did not have a platform this year. Support of Donald Trump was the platform. I hate this overused phrase, but let that sink in.

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Here's another way to look at it if the cult thing doesn't ring true to you. Consider abusive relationships. In an abusive relationship, a person being abused often stays, even when they are being harmed. Are they stupid? No. They know things are terrible, but they still hang on to the abuser as the solution, because the abuser has weakened them so much. The single issue voters who cling to this president as their path, have given over all their power (their vote) to the abusive one. Many, many liberals have also given over a lot of energy (power) ranting and railing at someone who clearly knows what he's doing and has no shame. Both are futile. When you're in an abusive relationship, the only thing to do is to do everything you can to GET STRONG AND GET OUT. Trying to change the other person, even trying to change the relationship is the road to madness.

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Many of us are so weakened or indoctrinated we can't fight any more, much less think about getting out. For those I would say, strengthen yourself. Stabilize your mind as much as you can and avoid toxic mind states. I can't think of a better analogy than California today. I am inside with an air purifier. I won't go out. The air is literally toxic.  If you love a Trump supporter, you can't help them by listening to them at this point. That would just be breathing the toxic air with them. Even if you are a Christian and love Donald Trump himself, you can only help him by helping us all break free, by shattering the hold this cult/abuse has on our country. ​

​Lastly,
recognize that there are two people who have strength, who are not exhausted, who have dedicated their whole lives to public service and are ready to fight for you and work tirelessly to make your life better. 

You don't have to agree with every point of their platform to breathe in the goodness and helpfulness of
Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

All they need to get to work is your vote.
 

VOTE BIDEN/HARRIS 2020!
GIVE OR GET INVOLVED AT 
JOEBIDEN.COM, 
VOTE.ORG,
MISSIONFORARIZONA.COM,
WISDEMS.ORG,
MICHIGANDEMS.ORG
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It's Time for Your Coronavirus Re-boot

7/7/2020

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It’s July and in many places, the danger is greater than ever.
 
You’re sick of it, you’re bored with it, you’re “over it”, and yet up the numbers go.
 
The shock has worn off, the grief is beginning, mounting like a pile of laundry you keep putting off.
 
Problems accrue like debt, some of the problems are debt. 
 
Pressure is mounting, release valves are scarce. You’re ready to burst. But you can’t, safely. So what do you do?
 
You re-commit.
 
It’s like a marriage. You have to wake up every day and marry this person all over again. But things happen. Feelings ebb. Houses get disorganized. Lives get messy.
 
So you re-commit. You say “this is what I want, and I’m willing to work at it.”
 
So you do.
 
For this scenario, you restock the hand sanitizer. You put a hook on your wall by the door for your mask. If you live in a full house, everybody gets their own hook. You clean the tool shed and imagine your summer projects.
 
Because you’re not going anywhere, really. Those extra trips, those “maybe if we just…” You imagine them, for fun, for release, but you don’t do them.
Not if you’re smart.
Not if you care.
Not if you want to help instead of hurt.
 
Get your head around staying, and start again.
 
Remember the energy when this first started?
Terror yes, but energy. Find that feeling.
 
Is it limiting?
Yes.
Is it sometimes claustrophobic?
Yes.
Is it what you wanted for yourself right now?
No, or not exactly.
But it’s what you’ve got.
So make it nice for yourself,
And for those around you.
 
Do what you can.
Do your best.
Stick with it.
Be strong.
Clean the bathroom.
Line up the books so you’ve got the next one ready.
Give yourself a break. Don't bother to add a picture to your blogpost.
Think about a way to help someone else, even if it’s just recommending a TV show.
Take a day to grieve.
But stay home, and stay safe.
 
I love you.
I’m asking you.
Stay safe.
 
We like the sexy new thing.
Be faithful.
Make this nice. 
Save that for later.
 
Here we are, alone together.
Riding the wave.
 
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How to Enjoy Wearing a Mask (Or at least resent it less)

6/27/2020

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We are living in the age of outrage, and right now a lot of it is aimed at masks. People are outraged that some are not wearing masks. Others are outraged that people are telling them they have to wear a mask. Meanwhile we are all expected to do something new and strange, all while feeling deeply afraid and upset. That ain’t easy.
 
In my opinion the outrage at people not wearing masks is well-placed, but useless. Personally, I can feel my blood pressure spiking when I see someone without a mask in public. Every stress bell in my body starts ringing. But we know that stress and immune function are related, so I’d say my outrage is counterproductive at best. 
 
If I see someone not wearing a mask, I am powerless to do anything about it, unless I want to tell them what to do. In my experience as a dog owner, telling random strangers to change their behavior is ill-advised, and maybe even dangerous. The only thing to do when you see someone with an ill-behaved dog is to leave, go, get away. Same with the unmasked. Move away from them. Take care of yourself and your family. Move along. So that’s my first tip: 
 
  1. Skip the outrage. People like to think outrage is motivating, even meaningful. But it’s not. It’s really just like the windbag at the company meeting. Vocal, full of itself, but when it comes down to assigning tasks, to actually getting the work done, it falls conspicuously silent. To achieve this step, you’ve got to be humble. Be ready to back up, literally. You even have to be ready to scrap your plans. Leave the restaurant. Go back to the car. Walk the dog the other way. Basically, be ready to swallow your pride and get out of Dodge. The goal? Keep your blood pressure down and your immune system running smoothly.
 
One image has stuck with me throughout this pandemic. It’s from the Four Continents Figure Skating Championship, which took place this February. I love watching figure skating. Like opera it is a truly international art form, and the competitions take place all over the world. This one was in Seoul, South Korea. The pandemic was already happening, and everyone in the audience, and I mean everyone, was wearing a mask. Like an audience at a tennis match, their heads moved back and forth in sync to follow the action, and despite the fact that their smiles were invisible, somehow you could feel the delight coming from them. They were having a great time watching the skating, in masks.

Culturally, we rugged individualists, the Teddy Roosevelt-style Americans are at a disadvantage about this new, sudden requirement. Not because masks itch, or cost money, or represent frailty, but because who the hell are you to tell me what to do? People like to compare this to seat belts when they try to shame the non-mask wearing online, but they have amnesia about what a long, hard-fought battle it was to get seat belts in cars. (And God bless Ralph Nader, by the way, for winning it.) But really, as a nationality we don’t take well to being given orders to change our behavior, even for the Greater Good. This leads me to tip number two: 
 
  1. Swallow your pride.  It’s not about you, it’s about your Grandma, or your elderly neighbor, or maybe even you, or, quite possibly, your job. The economy needs you to wear a mask. Pitch in and help. As they said during World War II, “do your bit.”
 
As a musician in my 50s, my ideas about talent have changed from when I was in my 20s. In my 20s I had the idea that talent was some kind of coronation, and I had everyone, actors and singers, ranked. But over the years I’ve seen the standings change. I've seen mega-talented singers be surpassed by the hardworking mediocre ones, and I just watched a new movie yesterday with a guy about my age whom I had categorized as a “lousy actor” back when we were young. He was excellent. What happened? He practiced. Art is a lot less mysterious than we think. Those who do it regularly get better at it. The same is true for wearing a mask. You know how to get better at wearing it? By wearing it. This leads me to my final tip:
 
  1. Practice. Of course you want to tear the mask off as soon as you get home, but if you really want to get used to it, try wearing one when you don’t need to. I quickly learned that just putting on a mask and leaving it on is much less unpleasant than taking it on and off and worrying about it. Just get used to it. Buy one you like, or several, and wear them. If you go out, leave it on. And if you aren't going out much, occasionally even wear one around the house. Especially wear them while you are doing things you enjoy so you imprint that mask = pleasant. You may also find that there are times to wear it that are useful. Wearing a mask while gardening I spared myself from hay fever and was able to garden much longer and more comfortably than I usually do. Vacuuming is a great time to wear a mask to spare your lungs, likewise dusting. 
 
The great trumpeter Wynton Marsalis said that when he was young his father told him, “If you want to be really special, do something that nobody else wants to do: practice.” His father was the great pianist Ellis Marsalis, who passed away in March from complications from COVID 19. 
 
In honor of him, let’s take his advice. Let’s practice.
 
A few other thoughts on comfort:
 
I don’t like the feeling of loops behind my ear so I’m wearing a mask that attaches around the back of my head. If you are the same way, you can adapt an ear mask to take the pressure off with a clip or a simple piece of elastic with two buttons well sewn on: Buy Ear Saver on Etsy or Buy Plastic Clips on Amazon
 
I put a drop or two of essential oil on the inside of my mask when I go out. I find it makes it very pleasant to wear, and if I choose something like lavender, it helps calm me down from the stress of being out. For associating with the mask as something pleasant, this is a great trick. No profit for me, just a good local store I love that delivers nice oils: https://lhasakarnak.com
 
You probably know the soapy glasses trick by now to keep from fogging, but here it is just in case:
Tips on Defogging Glasses
 
For women especially,  the expectation that we smile all the time, no matter how we are feeling, is very real. Yes, it’s uncomfortable to wear a mask, but the silver lining here is some the time off from people-pleasing. More thoughts on this here: Times Article on Smiling and Mask Wearing
 
Lastly, let’s take inspiration from those figure skating fans. We will find our way back to doing the things we love, and we will enjoy them, all while wearing a mask. Because…

                 1. We won’t waste energy being outraged. 
 
                2. We won’t take it personally. 
 
                           And 
 
                3. We’ll get pretty good at it!

 
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Grocery Mindfulness Practice in the Age of Coronavirus

3/27/2020

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A few recommendations on shopping:
 

            Where? At the smallest, cleanest market you know, or the best managed large market. 
 
            When? At off-peak hours if possible.
 
            How often? As infrequently as possible. (Try to shop for at least two weeks.)
 
            What should I buy? Enough to feel satisfied so that you will not end up going more often.
 
           For the elderly, consider delivery or asking a relative or neighbor to shop for you. 
 
           
For everyone, the choice of delivery or going to the store yourself is personal. You may be healthier or have cleaner hands than the delivery person, while the physical closeness to others at the store may put you at risk that delivery does not. Check in with neighbors and social media to discuss how the various stores are handling it and if you go, go to the one that is best-managed as far as cleanliness and lines. Note: The social act of shopping makes us feel good, but the grocery store is not the place right now to get that social satisfaction. Call friends, stay connected with neighbors, but try to stay away from the store as much as you can. 
 
This is a challenging time, a scary time for many, but also a special time, full of opportunity. You may never have felt more appreciative or aware of your food. So take your time with this process. It is rich with meaning. Savor it.

Planning Mindfully
 
            This is not a grab your purse and jump in the car era. Sit down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, with your loved ones if you are living together, and take your time going through these steps.

  1. Make a list including things you need, but also things you want. Perhaps add an intention to comfort yourself.
  2. Now look at the list again and consider substitutes. Be honest. If you know you will want something sweet, make sure it is there. Ask yourself what you would get instead of milk. The more you can plan ahead and ask these questions when you are calm, the better you will do in the store.
  3. Put together a cleanliness kit for your trip to the store. It should include any protective gear you want to wear at the store, mask or gloves, and a way to clean your hands thoroughly after you leave the store. If you do not have wipes, a jug of soapy water and a paper or cloth towel will do it the old-fashioned way.
  4. Set up your kitchen table, other table, or countertop for unpacking. Do this before you go. Divide the space in half by placing a piece of painter’s tape or a towel on half of the table to mark one side as clean. 
  5. Set aside a large bucket or clean box. You will use this when you come home. 
  6. Eat well before you go. 
  7. Use the bathroom so you will not need the public restroom.
 
Going Shopping

  1. Now is not the time to bring your own bags (germs) to the store.
  2. Consider the timing again. If you meant to get up earlier and it is now a more crowded time, wait for another day. Allow that feeling of I NEED I NEED I NEED to be there without having to act on it. 
  3. As you travel to the store, be aware of the instinctual urge to GO GET SUSTENANCE! If you have any anxiety or stress, offer yourself a simple prayer of loving kindness, “May I be safe. May I be happy. May I feel nourished.”
  4. When you arrive, before you get out of your car, or as you look at the store, survey the scene and take a moment to strategize. 
  5. If things look crazy busy, turn around and go home, or go to another store. (Feel the disappointment, but go. Leave. That's not the place for you today.
  6. Observe how people are coming and going, and figure out how you are going to move through that space maintaining social distance. 
  7. Before going in, take any steps you can to protect yourself. 
           a. Consider wearing gloves and a mask. 
           b. Secure hair, glasses, clothing so that you will not be tempted to touch them while in the store.
           c. Take a deep breath and repeat your short prayer, “May I be safe. May I be happy. May I feel nourished.” 
 
At the Store

  1. Think before you touch. Make a new rule: “You touch it, you buy it.” Touch as little as possible. Be aware of your hands. Feel your fingertips, your palms, your wrists. 
  2. WAIT! One thing that breaks social distance is impatience. Defer to others. Wait your turn. 
  3. Waiting in line, you have done all you can, take this moment to practice “stealth” loving kindness for those around you. Look at the people in front of you, behind you, at the register, and say silently, “May you be safe, May you be happy, May you be nourished.”
 
Leaving

  1. Disinfect your hands as soon upon leaving the store as you can. If the store has disinfectant gel or wipes, use them as you exit. If you brought something from home, use it. 
  2. Be aware of your clothes. You are now possibly carrying the virus on your clothes so move calmly. Do not shake off your sweater, or touch your clothes and then your face.
  3. Do not eat anything you bought. You will need to clean the items first. (That’s OK, you ate before you went to the store:)
 
Unpacking

Go slowly. There is no rush. This is the real opportunity to practice gratitude and mindfulness. Hold each item in your hand. Feel the weight of it. One thing I noticed from doing this was that I wasn't getting as much food as I thought, and certain items seemed not at all a good value for the money. I'll keep that in mind next time I shop. 

There are many video tutorials on disinfecting, and common sense always helps. Here is my method. 


  1. Leave everything outside or in the car that you can.
  2. Go inside and wash your hands thoroughly.
  3. Take your clean box or bucket, which you set aside before going.
  4. Go outside and remove items from the bags and place them in the bucket. (You may need to take several trips.) 
  5. Also before going inside, take away as much packaging as you can. Cereal boxes and other cardboard outer packaging can be removed. 
  6. Put the bags and outer packaging directly into recycling bins.
  7. Take groceries inside and place on “dirty” side of table.
  8. Wash your hands again.
  9. Clean each grocery item with disinfectant wipe, or diluted bleach-water solution or lots of soapy hot water
  10. Dry items thoroughly or place outside in the sun.
  11. Clean and disinfect your sorting table.
  12. Clean and disinfect the front doorknob or anything else you touched when you came in before you washed your hands.
 
Finishing up

  1. Take off all your clothes and put them in the laundry. 
  2. Shower or wash face and hands with soapy water.
        Even if we do all of these things, there are no guarantees that we or our loved ones won't get sick. Our vulnerability as living beings has perhaps never been more clear. But the process of taking precautions need not be stressful and confusing. We can slow down, take steps, and appreciate the process that at its heart is so loving, because we are doing it out of an intention to keep our selves and our fellow beings safe.
          The difference in effort may seem substantial, but in reality we are talking about taking an extra hour or two every two weeks to really take care, and be aware of what we are doing. 
           After we have performed this simple task of securing our food, we can sit down with another cup of tea, or a precious treat from our wonderful haul, and say together,
 

“May we all be safe, May we all be happy, May we all feel nourished.”
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Lisa's Anti-Viral Bag of Tricks

3/24/2020

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​From Money to Meditating, Door knobs to Diets,                          
​Here Are All My Tips and Tricks to Get Through These Crazy Days.

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1. Cleanliness:
 
Yes, wash your hands, but also do these simple things. Clean the following in soapy water or with antibacterial wipe or electronics-safe cleaning product at least daily, preferably twice a day. (If you are on the go and can’t rely exclusively on wipes, carry a milk jug or bottle full of soapy water.) Dry after cleaning. 
 
 
Self
Eye Glasses
Hands including fingernails
Computer
Phone
Purse
Wallet
 
House (if you are living with others)
Toilet handle
Bathroom faucets
Kitchen faucets
Fridge door
Stove knobs, Microwave, coffee pot.
Door knobs
Favorite Pen
 
Car
Steering wheel
Door handles 
Dash controls
 
Public
 Gas pump (filthy! Carry jug of soapy water if you don’t have plenty of wipes.)
ATM keypad (and cash, so wash after handling cash.)
Grocery story checkout pin pad
 
Maintain six feet distance. Even with checkout person at grocery. Don’t be shy about asking people to move back. Talk as you move: “I’m going to step six feet away, would you mind also stepping back?”

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​2. 
 
Body
 
This is not the time to accept one of those intense 30-day challenges you are being bombarded with online. You are under enormous stress.

So either:
Continue usual workouts but gently, 
or if you weren’t active,
Add some gentle walking for two or three periods per day.
 
Diet
 
The cycle of comfort foods plays itself out pretty quickly with jagged moods and crashes of energy. This is not a time to overdo, nor to fast or begin new intense diets. 
 
Eat well. 
Cooking itself is also a de-stressor for many.
 
Rest
 
More than you think you need to, but try to keep a regular schedule.
 
Hydration
 
Singers say "Drink heavy, pee light." Drink more water than you think you need to. This will help keep your nasal tract and throat hydrated and help to wash any virus down into the digestive tract. (And that’s good.) A good way to make sure you drink enough water is to drink a huge, 16 oz. glass of water as a “snack” between meals and at bedtime.
 
Gargle
 
Studies have shown that gargling with water twice daily cuts down on a common cold developing into an upper respiratory tract infection. It may not prevent the cold itself, nor COVID 19, but remember any illness at the moment could cause great concern and possible isolation.
 
Spray your nose. 
 
This is a singer’s trick I like. Huff Post says: “Use a saline nose spray several times a day to flush out the bacteria and viruses. Nasal sprays are sterile, take seconds to use, are inexpensive, and have been shown to be safe and effective for preventing and treating cold and flu symptoms. There are smaller versions for kids. Using it three or more times a day is a wonderful and safe preventive measure for everyone in the family."
 
Supplements and Supportive Methods
 
Though I won’t recommend specifics for you, if you have things that you know from experience help you to feel well, use them. I use essential oils daily, for example, and it helps me feel well. Vitamin C, Black Elderberry extract, whatever your usual supports are, continue them, or those that you bought and liked, but put in the back of the cabinet, maybe it’s time to pull them out. 
 
This may not the time to spend hundreds of dollars on new vitamins in a panic. It will be difficult to tell if new things are working as your stress level and your body are not exactly normal right now. It may only add to your financial worries if you overspend.
 
Eating a spoonful of honey twice a day has also been shown to improve immunity, and though it may not prevent this virus, as mentioned, any illness at the moment could cause great concern and possible isolation so preventing a cold right now is also of great importance. 
 

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​4.
 
Emotions/Mental Health

 
Watch your news consumption. I strongly suggest you try to stick with print over TV news, with radio being my second choice. And limit yourself to a certain time of day to check the news and then leave it. Make that time of day as far away from bedtime as you can! Read newspapers, check public TV and public radio websites and government pages. 1st choice read. 2nd choice: listen (to podcasts or radio.) 3rd choice: watch (which will include increasingly panicked faces and upsetting images.)
 
Meditation and Yoga
 
I used to think these were nice adjuncts to my life. Helpful, but optional. Now I feel that they are essential for physical health and mental sanity. There’s lots of amazing stuff online right now. Consider visiting a meditation class virtually, or doing a youtube yoga class.
 
Relationships
 
I know you love him/her, but it’s time to admit he/she drives you crazy, and maybe you need to keep it short or schedule some private time within the household. Also, everybody is very TRIGGERED right now, so expect people to be at their worst at times. Whatever family dynamics or old grudges were there, the volume will be turned up, so lower expectations and limit exposure.
 
Personal Pressure
 
This is not the moment to put on your cape and save the world. Get through it. Help others get through it. That is all.



5. 
 
Anti-Viral Best Friends

 
Nature (If you are in a big city, watch nature videos. I like Paul Dinning on Youtube, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s live cams.)
 
Rest
 
Regular Schedule including a Quiet Period daily.
 
Pet the dog or cat. (Or look at video of people playing with dogs and cats.)
 
Walking meditation (Pick a spot where you can walk up and down for about ten or fifteen feet.) Walk mindfully back and forth for a few minutes.
 
Exercise, in moderation, the way you would if you had a cold or were recovering from an injury. Be gentle.
 
Cleaning, cooking, stamp collecting, playing piano, or whatever your favorite stress-burner is, do it.
As one friend said, “do what soothes.”

 
Good luck everybody, you’ll be in my prayers. I hope this list is helpful. Now I’m going to read it myself, and see if I can put all these things into practice for myself and that’ll be my final note, even for parents. You have to secure your own oxygen mask before you can can help others. Think of it as "healthy-selfish".
 
Much love and all my wishes for health, safety, and happiness for you and your families and friends,
 
Lisa (clickable image below!)


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Oh To Be Young in the Coronavirus Era!

3/22/2020

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Refraining from action can be a powerful action in itself, but it’s not much in fashion, especially among the younger set.
 
Rugged individualism, yes. Enthusiastic binging on entertainment, yes. Almost any personal philosophy however indulgent or magnificent has a loud voice in the public sphere. What we don’t talk much about is NOT doing something for the sole purpose of doing good by not doing. Maybe that’s the nature of our society, an inclination to DO which is all that much stronger  when coupled with the energy of  youth.
 
But here we are.
 
We are past the maybes and the I doubt its. This virus is real. This is happening. Millions will die. They will be young, old, strangers, and people we know. And while volunteers are desperately needed, what is most needed from every single one of us is that we stay home and keep our germs to ourselves.

How quickly we accept the need for this self-sacrifice will determine not only how many people die, but also how overwhelmed the hospitals get, and how much people suffer horribly from a lack of care.  
 
The battle cry is getting louder. Stay Home. Save Lives. Stay home!
 
It’s worth acknowledging that what we are asking young people to sacrifice is not the same as what we are asking of an older person like myself. If I were to pause and reflect on all that I did in any single year of my twenties, this would be a much longer article, and probably a lot more entertaining. Now I wear a homebody badge with pride. But my twenties were (as they should have been) a time for fun, exploration, and forming social connections that are important to this day. The two most important friends in my life, people I speak to daily to navigate this crisis, are friends I made in my twenties.
 
And here we are asking young people to put that entire process on hold. 
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​Don’t kid yourself. It is not something that can happen online. It is something that has to do with the shared fatigue after a night of drinking, the aroma of a sauce simmering, the flutter of excitement meeting a new person and spontaneously including them on an open-ended adventure. It is the cold boldness of sitting in a coffee shop alone in a strange city. The sweaty stillness of waiting outside the door of a job interview. It’s the shedding of a childhood self in favor of a new person you are not only meeting, but developing.
 
So it’s a lot to ask.  It cannot be compared to any demands of self-sacrifice I experienced in my lifetime, much less my youth. 
 
But there is a comparison to be made between this time and the non-military effort during World War II. Dime store novels, the books that originated the term “pulp” fiction, were made flimsily because even paper was strictly rationed for the war effort. Toys were melted down for scrap. Fat was saved in kitchen cans. Vegetables were grown in “Victory” gardens. In England, they called it “doing their bit.” 
 
In the U.S. there was another phrase in common use, and it was this: 
 
“Don’t you know there’s a war on?”
 
My father, who is now 86 and sheltering in place along with my mother, who is 85, was a child during World War II, living in Boston and spending summers on the Cape, where kids watched the coastline for U-Boats, and those who failed to comply with “lights out” orders, or in other ways defied the common effort, those people were called out by others with the use of this phrase. Dad says it wasn’t even considered impolite. It was actually a socially acceptable thing to say. A way of reminding people of a basic reality which they were failing to respect, and of the lives being sacrificed on foreign soils (most of them young lives.) 

“Don’t you know there’s a war on?”
 
As a fan of old movies, I am familiar with jam-packed trains, fiercely cheerful USO dances, and pleas to spend 10% of one’s salary on warbonds. Post-war I love the great characters of later noir and mysteries, who are often veterans, hardened and possibly damaged by their service. Gritty and determined, if a bit embittered. Humphrey Bogart as Captain Frank McCloud in Key Largo. Jimmy Stewart as Jeff Jeffries in Rear Window.The scars of war made beautiful have allowed us to absorb the meaning of these great sacrifices.

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​But this crisis is fresh, and fast-moving. We have no mythos to help us wrap our minds around it, yet. And for that crucial, most socially mobile group, this lack of story can make life itself seem impossible in that most novelistic decades of life, how is it that the music can the story just hit pause? 
 
I don’t know how to solve that. How to convince these precious young people of their own importance in this moment, and perhaps that is the problem.  As much fun as I had in my twenties, I wouldn’t go back there for anything. It was a time of confusion, and at times crushing self-doubt. I had no real grasp on how my own choices were shaping my life. In one of life’s odd paradoxes, as my youth and vigor wanes I have come to realize that I am much more powerful than I ever realized. While in my twenties, as self-oriented as I was, I had no deep belief that I really mattered.
 
Crisis and opportunity are not strangers. Maybe these young people will get busy staying home, and therefor help us avoid the worst case scenario here. Maybe that will also spare themselves the kinds problems I had in my thirties and even my forties because they have come to understand their own personal power sooner. 
 
Young people do everything faster than I did. They open bank accounts, order taxis, change jobs, buy outfits, get in and out of relationships with a swipe or click or text. Maybe with this enforced isolation, a sort of mother-of-all spiritual retreats, they can “get woke” at speed, turning inward and finding a deeper sense of self-worth and value. And perhaps we as a society will all benefit from that transformation. Let us hope. 
 
It is an unfair burden to put on them, and yet isn’t that always the way? The young are the ones who lose their lives in greatest number, and so it is in every war. In this case they may not be among the greatest number of fatalities, but they will lose proms and high school musicals and new, might-have-been romances, and job opportunities, and maybe even the sense that the world remains on its axis.
 
And yet they must do their part as so must we all. And if any of us see someone step out of line, young or old, we must speak up, and say without shame or rancor, “Don’t you know there’s a war on?” 

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My Earthquake Memory: Snapshot of an Era

10/18/2019

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PictureA House in the Marina District
​At 5:04 p.m. on October 17th, 1989, I was at work, standing in the center of a bookstore called A Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books. The name was a quote from Hemingway, but that didn’t stop customers from correcting the grammar almost daily. “It should be a clean well litplace for books,” they would say with a disapproving smirk as I rang up their purchases at the cash register. Six years before Amazon began its selling books online, and well before internet omnipresence, being a bookstore clerk made me a kind of semi-deity. Someone who could open the gi-normous tomb ofBooks in Printand leaf through its onion skin pages to obtain information on a precious, hard to find volume. I loved that job. My coworkers were smart and funny, but with a veneer of cynicism that was only a pose, overlain atop a sweet vulnerability. Or perhaps I only saw it that way. I was a newlywed. Late that August I’d said my vows. I was also a budding opera singer working a stone’s throw from the greatest opera house in the world. I’d say I was rather aglow with love in all directions. 

PictureThe Bay Bridge
​When the quake came our customers did something astounding. They ran out of the store, straight into the traffic of Van Ness Avenue. Cars came skidding to a stop and people jumped back onto the sidewalk in relief and embarrassment. Perhaps they didn’t know that we stood on bedrock, a pretty good place to be at a time of seismic catastrophe. And they probably did not know that the owners of the store, in their infinite wisdom, had built all the shelves at a slight declining angle into the wall. When the shaking stopped, not a single book had fallen.
            
I don’t remember if we closed or if I finished out my shift, but about an hour after the quake I headed home, walking along Van Ness in the growing dusk. This was the days before cell phones, and the chatter among people was constant, and rife with rumors and hubbub. The bridge collapsedwas something I heard and discounted. It was not possible, or so I thought. A few blocks west, a man with a shopping cart full of his possessions had a transistor radio, and a couple of people were huddled around it, listening to the news. A man in an expensive suit. A woman with a small child. I joined them. We listened together for some time. KGO, as always, was the voice of reason, calm, and solid information. Yes, in fact, part of the bridge had fallen. It was a strange, but quite beautiful moment of community, the cluster of us.
            
I stepped away and continued up Van Ness. It was now almost dark, but many of the lights were out so it was darker than San Francisco usually is at that hour. The adrenalin began to be reabsorbed into my body as I walked faster. My brow furrowed against the strangely warm air as I began to realize this was much more than a hiccup. My ignorance swept over me. My husband was at a baseball game. The World Series. He, my brother, and my brother-in-law were all there. They’d been thrilled to go, even though the seats were fairly high up in the stands. I pictured the rough old concrete of Candlestick Park which seemed to wobble even in a stiff wind. Would it survive? 
​
The rest of my walk was a worried blur. I arrived home at our apartment on Clay Street between Larkin and Hyde. I went straight in and found our cat, Boomer, scared out of his wits, but just fine. A bookshelf had emptied but the apartment looked fine otherwise. I called my sister in the east bay. She was seven months pregnant, and fine. Mom was fine. Dad was fine. Everybody was fine. She and I speculated about what our husbands would do. She said news was coming in of traffic ground to a halt because of a collapse of the Nimitz freeway. The casualties would turn out to be in the dozens. I thought, I hoped, my husband, brother, and brother-in-law would make their way to me, but how would they get here? Were the busses running? I grabbed a pack of cigarettes – yes, opera singers smoke sometimes, especially when there are earthquakes – and headed down to the street, where I smoked and chatted with my neighbors.
            
After several hours my husband arrived home. I will never forget the look on my brother-in-law’s face before I had the chance to tell him that my sister, his wife, was fine. It is the only time I have ever seen him scared. 
            
I tried to convince my brother and brother-in-law to stay with us. The world seemed a scary place and I was glad to have them back in my circle. But they decided to make their way across the Bay.

PictureThe Cypress Freeway after Collapse
The power was out in our little apartment, and would stay out for days due to damaged substations. That part of San Francisco is just at the bottom of the ritzy Nob Hill, but truly it is closer to the Tenderloin, which is why it is jokingly called “the Tender Nob.” Feathers were ruffled over the coming days as power went back on in the wealthier neighborhoods first, but we waited, and waited. The Tenderloin’s power came on last. 
Eventually I went back to work. Those days I had the duty of ordering the books for opera and music section, an honor I abused terribly, ordering every book I was interested in until finally they took the assignment from me. That era was a pinnacle of glory for the opera. The season before I had heard La Bohème with none other than Luciano Pavarotti and Mirella Freni, a performance so convincing and impeccable it caused me never again to lament casting grand sized opera singers in the role of young lovers. A month before the quake I had seen the great Jessye Norman in recital, and the season had opened with a sexy, smashing Luluand Sam Ramey at the peak of his voice as Mefistofeles. In general the San Francisco Opera in late eighties offered a series of performances I feel proud and lucky to have beheld, very often grabbing a sandwich after work at the bookstore, and spending the evening leaning on the rail behind the orchestra section flanked by my fellow standees. 

The performance scheduled for the night of the Quake was cancelled. Subsequent performances took place at the Masonic Auditorium and later the Civic Center as a substantial repairs and seismic retrofit were performed on the War Memorial Opera House, a place many in the city and music-loving community of the Bay Area consider almost a person, at least a friend. But opera fans put up with the inconvenice, and the cavernous acoustics elsewhere. Even later, back at the opera house, most of us took a moment before the curtain rose to look up at the tight meshed net that seemed to defy the gravity of the crumbled ceiling. But like the city in 1906, San Francisco Opera showed itself to be the comeback King. 
​
The actual tragedies touched me only peripherally. When I went to my Italian lesson the day after the Quake, my teacher was in tears. His friend had been one of those who died in the Marina, a neighborhood built on landfill that had fared quite poorly. A good friend from high school had exited the Nimitz freeway less than a minute before it collapsed. But the worst had been spared to those closest to me and I felt that mixture of relief and guilt common to all survivors. 
            
Two years later, when a firestorm engulfed the Oakland Hills, I was living on the East Coast. At first I paid small attention to the news of “a fire in California.” It’s a big state, it could’ve been anywhere. Then I realized it was directly above my parents’ home and I watched the news in horror. In the end, my parents’ home was just below the evacuation line, and though my brother had hosed down the roof and they had stood and watched the hillside burn, they were safe, as was the grand lady of the Claremont Hotel, a landmark most of us East Bay natives consider iconic.
            
Since then, disaster has become more common, and more personal. Two years ago, in the weeks following fires here, we suffered a noxious and oppressive air quality for days, and shortly following that my cousin, young, healthy, and in his early forties, died suddenly of a heart problem. He was not technically a victim of the fire, but in my mind the events are forever linked. And I have two friends who lost everything to fire, or rather almost everything. They left with the clothes on their back, and their dogs. Their strength in the aftermath has amazed me. I don’t pity them, because I have seen them triumph.
            
The months following the Quake, the book Fifteen Seconds positively flew off the shelf in the bookstore. A hastily published paperback coffee table book, it encapsulated the worst events of the Quake, and it was one of those times in the bookstore trade that one book absolutely took over a section of the industry. When that book came out, I’d say all of San Francisco wanted a copy. And I can understand why. The mind needs help after an event like that. It seems almost unreal. Looking at those pictures, of fallen buildings, of people gathered, it lets you know, yes, this happened. But unlike the scrolling infinity of misery we all see every day on our phones, that book was finite. A frightening, tragic encapsulation that you could pick up when you needed to consider what had happened, but was also comforting because you could finish it, and put it down.
            
CNN was founded in 1980, so it was up and running for the evens of ’89, and ’91. But the world’s population had not yet jumped aboard the 24/7 news cycle, nor did we all have cell phones, creating our own, more intimate version of 24/7. So there was a way in which these catastrophes trickled in, just as I waited in the darkened apartment for news of my husband, families waited, communities waited, cities waited. And it was in that window of not knowing that barriers came down. The number of homeless individuals in San Francisco has reached huge proportions lately, but it is far from a new problem. And people interact with each other in different ways about that. Some stop, to offer solace, or money. And sometimes a person asks for money. But when was the last time you stopped a homeless person to ask for a favor? In that moment on Van Ness, the man with the shopping cart was our lifeline for a few moments, and in those few moments our “status”, if you will, was reversed. That, I think, is the great gift of these catastrophes. Things that are artificial, or unimportant, disappear. 

​My family is different now, since we lost our cousin. And even these larger catastrophic events, (among which many of my friends and family include a frightening and tyrannical presidency,) these things have the ability to shake us out of our routines, to make us feel an existential human fear, not only for ourselves, but for our loved ones. I will never forget that look on my brother-in-law’s face. At least I hope I never will. Because it reminds me of the truth: we are all of us hanging by the thinnest of threads. Once we know that, or remember it, the only option is to be as kind and as helpful as we possibly can.

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Ceiling of the War Memorial Opera House
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Lisa's Rules for De-Escalating Drama

10/10/2019

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We are in a period of high fire danger here in California so yesterday I pruned, weed-whacked, and generally cut the garden down to size. Then I raked everything up and gave the ground a good soak.
     Meanwhile, I have a friend who is in a very high-drama family situation.
     Arguing. Strong emotion. Threats. 
     It occurs to me that my advice to my friend is exactly the same as the advice to home-owners that the fire department gives out when they talk about maintaining  “defensible space”. They recommend that you clear dead plants, remove dried leaves, and leave some space between things. 
     You might not be able to stop a wildfire, but you might be able to slow it down, or  stop it from spreading.
     My friend who is in this high-drama situation is very focused on the other person, and the problems in the relationship. Understandably!
​     But basically they are running straight at the fire and adding more fuel. It's exactly what I did when I was trying to “save” my marriage. Looking back, I wish I had thought more about clearing my own defensible space.
       What does that look like? Here’s my list.
                           ALWAYS

Take a break.
 
Eat something.
 
Separate, but for a specified time.
     Storming out can be better than staying, for both of you, but people have abandonment issues and just leaving without saying you are coming back, or threatening never to come back can be triggering and even cruel. Better to say, "I’ll be back in an hour," or "two," or "tomorrow," or if you truly don't know, say, “I need to go now. I don’t know what time, but I will be back.”
 


Talk to someone outside of the situation.
     People often say talk to a friend  or therapist, but even a chat with the barista at Starbucks can help get you out of the tornado. And sometimes a “friend”, or even an unskillful therapist can actually throw fuel on the fire by “taking your side.” Remember your goal, to get out of the violent cycle of drama.    
     Talking about mundane things with someone outside the situation may even be better than getting into the difficult material right away, even with a friend or therapist. Do that, yes, but after you have cooled the fires.
 



Maintain your own house.
What in your life has become neglected because of this drama? Are you eating well? Getting enough rest? Cleaning your bathroom? Going to the dentist? Going for coffee with a friend? Doing that errand you'd like to have over with? Doing that task that would be fun, but just didn't feel important enough to pull you away from the fight?
                             DON'T
 
Never: keep going at the problem.
     Remember, we are not fighting a fire. We are creating an environment that has the potential to cool down a conflict so we can deal with it appropriately.


Never: discuss (fight about) anything difficult or serious when you are HUNGRY, ANGRY, LONELY, or TIRED.
     Remember the acronym H.A.L.T.
     That means stop, and take care of basic needs. My rules for these discussions include,
      Never before a meal.
      Never before a deadline (someone has to leave for work, school, appointment.)
     Never after sunset. (I mean never.)

 
Never use the outside world as a weapon.
     
A friend (or social media) who helps to throw fuel on your anger is not acting as a friend. Likewise, if you are out in the world trying to get everybody on your side, guess what, you’re still 
in the fight. Remember, your goal is to get out of the fight, so try not to take it with you.
 
Never: tear down someone else’s house.
      
If someone is maintaining their house, (as seen on the "always" list) don’t stop them to drag them back into the fight. If they are taking care of a basic need, getting ready for work, eating, or clearing their defensible space and you insist that instead they come back into the fight with you, you are working against your objective to cool down the fight.

     I understand that if someone you are in conflict with walks away from you, or goes to do something on their own self-care list, it might seem as if they don't care about you. But if you are acting in opposition to someone caring for themselves, then you are sort of casting yourself as their enemy, and that will keep the fight going.
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                                                             So that’s the idea.
                             Think about calming down as its own valuable goal.

    If you think, “but, but, but this is a real problem we have to deal with!” I agree. But deal with it how? When? Haven’t you already tried going at it this way? Is it helping?
     
     So calm down.
     Cool your jets.
     Take a deep breath.
     Go for a walk in nature.
​     Do something good for yourself or that needs doing that you've been putting off.

   
 Remember, the momentum favors the drama.
     That is human instinct. We are evolved to deal with intense, dangerous situations that need to be solved NOW! But most, if not all, family difficulties are best dealt with later. When everyone is fed. Rested. Hydrated. And when everybody knows that they have done everything they can to clear their own, defenisible space.
     No, you can't do anything about the piles of crap on your neighbor's side of the fence. But even so, it's a really good feeling to have your own space cleared.
     Then you have room to stand. To breathe. And to be ready for whatever comes next.

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Finding Friendly Food Post #5                                                   Press On: Media Reaction to the Plant Paradox

9/27/2019

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I’m turning into a radical over here but can’t help it. I say this as a writer: the vast majority of the news articles on the Plant Paradox are inaccurate, poorly researched, and full of prejudice and disdain for the diet simply because it differs from our long held, and misguided assumptions about food.  
 
I am only on day four of this plan and already I am eating three delicious, fully balanced meals and feeling better. Protein. Veggies. And healthy (resistant) starches. Good fats. Sound good? 
 
This kind of alarmism and protecting-the-status-quo is what keeps us stuck as a society. We are stuck in assumptions that lead to gluttony of every kind, over consumption, and planetary crisis. We are at a moment in human history when we must learn to tell the difference between deprivation and inconvenience. I am going to put that in bold and say it again. We are at a moment in human history when we must learn to tell the difference between deprivation and inconvenience.
 
It is not the end of the world, (nor is it dangerous), that I can “only” eat about 200 kinds of food instead of eating whatever the heck I want whenever the heck I want it. But to read these articles, you’d think I was living in a cave eating one grain of rice a day. Reading them, I get a glimmer of the Red Scare, the Witch Hunts of old, the knee jerk reactions that keep us from exploring new things. You’d think I was doing something downright un-American! 
 
A word more about the editorial content of these articles. I write about music and opera, and have for about fifteen years now. I have learned a time-saving trick. When I am first assigned a story, I will do a little bit of cursory research, and get some idea of an “angle” or inspiration for the story, and in that wildly creative but unsubstantiated space, I will write a very rough draft, almost a sketch, really. Then, I will interview people, triple check facts, and write the actual story, but that rough, creative draft often becomes the spine of the story. Unfortunately, that is what I am seeing in these stories, except that the spine is not surrounded by a body. Personal snark and societal assumptions have filled out these stories instead of facts. I suppose it might be OK if it were “just” opera they were writing about, but we are talking about people’s lives here. People’s health. The Washington Post and other major outlets owe it to their readership to offer a science-based reportage without sarcasm. 
 
Meanwhile, I’m incredibly happy to be on this path. 
 
I feel it is healing much more than my gut.
 
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Finding Friendly Food: Lectin-Free Diary Post #4                  "The Pack Leader Controls the Food"

9/26/2019

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LISTEN TO TODAY'S POST AS AUDIO ESSAY

​When you’re a kid you eat what’s there. If your Mom doesn’t buy soda, you don’t drink soda. If your Mom doesn’t buy sugared cereals, you don’t eat sugared cereals.

If your Mom calls you from work, and talks you through how to roast a chicken, you learn how to roast a chicken, sort of. If you’re all alone and there’s nothing around for lunch, you scrounge every dresser top, sofa cushion, and penny jar to put enough together for a liquor store salami sandwich. Or if your Mother buys roughly three dozen boxes of Chex cereal because it’s on sale, and stacks them up to the ceiling in the pantry, and the stack frightens you, looming over your childhood and extending into your future, so you imagine you are eighteen and going off to college but still eating stale bargain Corn Chex, then that’s what you eat.

And finally, if you complain about the somewhat haphazard arrangement for your sustenance, and your Mother takes out her handy fifteen-inch-long yellow legal pad, and makes a list, and posts it on the refrigerator for you and your siblings to read, and entitles it: “Food in the House When You Said There Was No Food in the House,” then you will darn well eat what is in the house, and like it. Even if the list includes things like canned pears. And corn starch.
 
You may have guessed by now that I am not talking about your Mother, I’m talking about my Mother. A wonderful, industrious woman who would sometimes make us apple crisp, beef stew, or “schnecken,” which are little Jewish cream cheese pastries rolled up with cinnamon and sugar. But other times, overworked and overtired, and probably suffering from the thyroid condition that now troubles me, Mom would come home from work and request either a Dubonet on the rocks or some fresh squeezed orange juice, and us kids would get it for her, and then fend for ourselves. And all kidding aside, we did pretty well. I learned to love food. I learned to love cooking. I even learned to love cleaning up, which often included a water fight and a very wet kitchen floor. 
            
What I didn’t learn was which foods I liked. Or rather, which foods I was allowed to say I preferred. Being the youngest, you learn how to take leftovers, which is how I learned to love burned popcorn, because at least I could count on being able to move my hand into the bowl to get it without competition. So it was a lightening bolt when my sister gave up meat for a couple of weeks, and I discovered that vegetarianism was a thing. I realized that I hadn’t liked meat for years, and I stopped eating it. It was 1978.
I am pretty sure my family thought I was just copying big sis, like usual, and were surprised when I stuck with it. And I was copying big sis, for sure. But I was also discovering the power of saying, “no.”
            
Doggy Dan is an online dog trainer, with a website full of excellent free material, or reasonably priced courses that will probably change your life, and your dog’s life, for the better. And Doggy Dan says, “The pack leader controls the food.” 

One of my dogs is a lab, so of course he will eat anything, at anytime, anywhere. But little Gadget is my pretty, picky Papillon. And Doggy Dan says he’s playing games with me. Walking away from the bowl when I put it down. Rubbing his cute little nose raw to bury his food instead of eating it. Giving a discreet little growl when I try to take away a bone he has discarded. These are all signs, so says Doggy Dan, of him controlling the food. And that doesn’t work. It sets off a host of other behavioral problems. Why? Because food is the most important thing in a dog’s life, and whoever controls it is in charge. Period. 
           
So these days, I don’t leave any food around for the dogs, nor bones. I eat first. I even do a little fake gobbling over each of their bowls before I put them down. And if Gadget walks away from his bowl with his nose in the air like a fluffy little prince, I take the bowl away, right away, and he’s got to wait till the next meal. Who’s in charge of the food? I am.
            
This new lectin-free diet I am trying is not easy. It is highly restrictive. No this, no that. But I think that is why I am so moved by the experience of trying it. How many women reading this struggle to say a simple, two-letter word? “No.” 
            
What I mean to say, by comparing the dogs and my childhood kitchen, is that we get into habits. Food habits. And they may be good for us, or they may be really, really bad for us. 
            
Unfortunately, food habits are among the most sensitive topics for people, and when you change your diet, it can be upsetting to others. To this day, I still don’t think my family is thrilled that I am a vegetarian, and they still make that known in subtle ways, which in turn bother me, so we are all a little bothered about it. But give us time. It’s only been forty years. But seriously, people often take a substantial dietary change as an implicit criticism. I have been verbally attacked by meat eaters before I could get half a word out, and the only reason I can imagine is that they felt attacked by me. What I was doing was different than what they were doing, and because of that, they thought I was saying they were wrong.
            
But there is a more kindly negative reaction that people have as well, which is concern for my health, and perhaps also just a generalized worry that if everybody goes about evolving their own, quirky little diets, the fabric of society will become unraveled. Food brings us together. When I eat differently, I set myself apart.
            
There is also the ideal reaction, which is one of curiosity and empathy. Curiosity for what I’m doing (rather than jumping to assumptions or stereotypes), and empathy for the fact that obviously if I felt terrific, I wouldn’t be changing a thing.
            
I myself sometimes fall in that second group, wondering how the fabric of society can stay strongly woven with all these individualized threads. But at this point in history, we are all our own special melting pots, genetically diverse within ourselves, living in diverse communities, and there is no reason to assume that every stomach should be able to happily eat “whatever’s in the kitchen”, metaphorically speaking. Chinese food one night, staff dinner the next, pizza another, the latest fad breakfast, your favorite habitual lunch. 
            
When communities were more homogenous, people ate together daily and evolved dietary choices that made sense to them, and their stomachs. These evolutions took millennia, and included elaborate methods of food preparation, many of them designed thoughtfully to remove the parts of foods which are often less digestible. What are those parts called? I’m so glad you asked. They’re proteins, and they’re called Lectins. Recent news coverage has mistakenly reported that all lectins are removed during cooking, any cooking, but this is not so.

Human beings spent thousands of years learning how to get the bran off of rice, only to have some genius declare that because of the vitamins we might miss, we’d better start eating the whole grain again. Too bad my stomach didn’t get the memo. And many of the traditions could still work, if we did them. When I was taught to cook beans, I was taught to soak them overnight, rinse them, then cook them at high heat while skimming away the foam that appears on the surface of the pot, and then change the water, and then boil them for hours and hours. But I’m guilty of shortening that process considerably. And I often simply throw rice in a pot with water and cook it, without any soaking at all. My Persian neighbor once made me rice, and I lost count of the numbers of times she rinsed, soaked, and changed the water. All I know is that she had begun the process days before our dinner, and that the rice was fluffy and absolutely delicious. 
            
I don’t care about getting into an argument with food purists, or friends who read alarming articles and tell me “lectins are fine, and the diet is bad.” Because for a decade now I have noticed that the “better” I eat, the worse I feel. All the whole grains and varied fruits and vegetables seem to make me sicker and sicker and sicker. So I have my own experience to guide me. Anything can look good or bad on paper. But every bodyis different. The same way I could have gone undiagnosed my whole life if I had believed my first blood test, which came back “normal”, my health is too important a task to farm out to popular consensus, or even traditional medical knowledge. My body is not lying to me. A raw vegan diet brought me enormous pain, and close to the brink of despair. And yes, I supplemented B12. So that’s me.

So I’ve decided on taking a fairly radical step forward with my diet, and because of my “better” makes me worse paradox, the work of Dr. Gundry— who is among other things a specialist in infant organ transplants so he’s hardly a snake oil salesman— the idea of a diet which focuses specifically on how things are prepared, and which kinds of things tend to bother people, made such innate sense to me that the moment I read about it, I experienced a feeling of coming to ground. Even before I had any problems of my own, I was well-versed in my Dad’s “bad” stomach, and knew well that he couldn’t tolerate tomatoes, chilis, sunflower seeds. All high lectin foods. 

But I am four days in. I don’t know if this will work, or not. But if it doesn’t, I’ll try something else. There’s a phase in life when you realize you are the one who gets to make the decisions, and then there’s a period after that when you realize you’re also allowed to change your mind, and that’s when freedom comes rushing in the door. If I need to change directions, I will. If I need to adapt or revise these choices, I will. If I need to eat some old comfort food in a moment of painful nostalgia (with a digestive enzyme to help me process it), then I will. Because it’s my stomach. And my life. And because Doggy Dan is right.

​The pack leader controls the food.

-LH

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