What I Eat and Why

This blog began as a discussion of food and our attitude toward it, with particular emphasis on how the teachings of the Buddha (the Dharma) gives us insight into our eating (and vice versa, as far as that goes). I thought it might be interesting (to me, at least) to tell you a little bit about how I eat and why I eat what I do. If this holds no interest for you, please feel free to skip this one!

A few notes first:

• I am a vegetarian. Why: the first precept taught by the Buddha (I have written on the precepts here) is not to kill. You will recall that the precepts are not commandments and we must each make our own determination as to what these mean to us, if anything. To me, this precept means that no creature should die for my convenience or to satisfy a mere desire. You will note that this prohibition would exclude any circumstance where the death of another creature was essential for my survival (which is to say, I would not refuse meat if that was the only food available, nor would I eschew insulin or exogenous skin products derived from pigs or other animals). I admit to being conflicted about the use of animals for essential medical research, but in general I am not opposed to this use if it leads to the saving of human lives. I am aware that this is a moral quagmire, as I am thus placing the value of human life above that of other creatures, but the fact is that I do place more value on human life; that's just the way it is for me. I am not a vegan, as I have no problem with taking milk and other products from animals. As noted below, it would also be very, very difficult for me to get adequate protein intake without dairy. I also love it (especially good cheese—yum!) and have no intention of giving it up.

• I monitor and supplement my protein intake. Why: I was experiencing very low energy states a few years ago (more about that later) and one of the discoveries I made at that time was that I (like many people the world over) do not digest soy well. Not that it causes particular digestive issues, I just don't get the protein benefit others do from it. This is pretty common, actually. In combination with my vegetarianism, this makes it more of a challenge to get enough protein into my diet. I found I had to monitor my protein intake closely and every day.

• I believe in the use of supplements. Why: I am a scientific guy at heart and like evidence-based practices, but I think there is something to be said for the use of products with a long history of efficacy that nonetheless cannot be conclusively proven to be effective (I am thinking of such things as vitamins and certain herbs). This is an age-old debate—must we have proof of something before we can declare that it might have some usefulness? Are we simply wasting our money on these products or are they truly an adjunct to our better health?

So, here's what I eat:

For breakfast I eat some kind of cold cereal, usually. I eat something that is not too sugary, but still has some taste without adding any sugar or other sweetener. Now, I should say at this point that what I have done is figured out how many calories and how much protein I am consuming when I start the day with a particular cereal, since all the cereals vary somewhat on both metrics. This is easy to do in my case because (as you will see below) I eat essentially the same thing each day, with some variation built in. The reason I bring this up is because a lot of people think it is just too much hassle to track calories and protein. But, by having a chart of what a typical, basic day's measures of these two are, it is much less of a hassle for me.

I put about a quarter cup of bran cereal on my cereal, for the purposes of colonic health. There is pretty strong evidence that increased consumption of fiber helps prevent colon cancer. I also put a handful of blueberries on my cereal each day. The anecdotal evidence of many centuries suggests that berries in this family can boost immune function. 

I eat nonfat milk on my cereal. I also mix a scoop of whey-based protein powder with some more milk. As noted above, I cannot use soy-based protein powder, and a boost to my total protein is essential. My goal is to consume one gram of protein for every kilogram of ideal body weight. I have done quite a bit of study around this figure and, although studies and experts vary widely in their recommendations for protein intake, for me, 80g per day seems about right. This is also tied into the fatigue I was feeling a few years back—the measured protein intake is one of my responses to this.

I also eat a piece of fruit with breakfast. I am not so compulsive that I get all hung up on the calorie difference between different pieces of fruit. This is counted into my daily tally at a particular level and doesn't vary. Fruit is actually not all that nutritious, by the way, but does provide a complex carbohydrate to keep my blood sugar up. It also provides an extra amount of fiber (see above). The superiority of fruit over juices or even other sources of sugar has been exaggerated, though. Over-consumption of fruit can be a source of empty calories if one is not judicious.

With breakfast I take many supplements. I take 1000 mg of vitamin C. I know, I know, this has come in and out of fashion and recent science suggests that there is very little efficacy to vitamin C either as prophylaxis of common viral infections such as colds or as a scavenger of free radicals (purported to prevent cancers). Still, there was a time not long ago that I was getting sick at the rate of five or six times each winter, sick enough to take a day or two off work each time. When I complained to my doctor, she suggested that I try vitamin C and garlic. So, after doing some study on the subject, I started taking a total of 4500 mg of vitamin C per day as well as four tablets of garlic. I spread the vitamin C out throughout the day (it is water-soluble and taking too much at any one time means you are just urinating out the excess; it can also cause diarrhea at high doses). I also take two of the garlic tabs in the morning and two in the evening, hoping to spread the effects from that intake. And I have gotten sick much, much less since I started doing that. Granted, there are many other factors that could have caused this change to come about, but the temporal relationship between these measures being taken and the improvement in my health is suggestive to me of some causal relationship.

I also take vitamin D, 5000 IU every other day in the winter (less sun exposure) and three times a week in the summer. This was suggested by my naturopath after I went to him with my complaints of fatigue (my regular physician was at the end of what she could do for me). One very important proviso to supplementing with vitamin D, though: you must have your vitamin D levels checked at least yearly and more often when starting supplementation or substantially increasing your dose. Vitamin D can accumulate in your body (it is fat- and not water-soluble) if you take too much and cause much worse problems than the ones you are solving with it. You will also need to do your homework to determine the ideal blood level for you; traditional medicine tends to set the acceptable levels quite low. Recent studies have suggested that nearly everyone could benefit from some degree of vitamin D supplementation.

I also take a vitamin B50 tablet, which provides about 50 mg of most B vitamins, and a selenium tablet. These two were suggested by the LEVITY study conducted at the University of Washington about ten years ago as being efficacious for improved mood (along with exercise and exposure to as much natural light as possible).

These days I am also taking 1000 mg of organic American ginseng daily. I know, that's pretty specific, but here's why: an Australian study demonstrated that this type of ginseng was efficacious in providing feelings of more energy and improved stamina in a particular group of patients. So, I am running an experiment on myself, taking 1000 mg every day for a month, then 2000 mg (the dose recommended on the bottle) for two months, to see if I detect any improvement. Though my fatigue has improved a great deal, it is an issue that is far from entirely solved. I doubt this type of ginseng is better than any other kind, but am trying to replicate the study conditions to the best of my ability. I am nearly through the first month (1000 mg) and have seen no change.

Well, I got pretty wordy describing all that, and I'm only up through breakfast! I will tackle lunch, dinner, and my other food in my next post. I will also talk about my weight loss (the original purpose of this site) and where I stand in relation to that.

God

I don't exactly disbelieve in God. Is that vague enough for you? If I have gained any wisdom in my nearly six decades of life (a debatable proposition), that wisdom may well be summarized in this mantra: "It is more foolish to assert certainty than doubt in a world as uncertain as this".

Consider the evidence, such as it is: evolution is a fact, though as time goes by we realize how very limited Darwin's original theory is (even he acknowledged this). Still, evolution is the way we came into being. All things natural are explicable through the science of evolution. Creation cannot explain away things like entirely useless hipbones in whales or other vestigial traces of the evolutionary progress of species. (Yes, yes, I know, God has no need to explain Himself or Herself or Itself. There are mysteries and this is as it should be and all that. Still...). Then there is the trump card often put forward by the atheist; do you really want to believe in a God that would allow things like Darfur or the rape of a child? The Holocaust or Kim Kardashian?

I just looked at a few philosophical website entries about this question, so my head is spinning a bit, but I don't feel any clearer than I did before. Arguing about the subject from the perspective of logic isn't really very useful, is it? Atheism, whether they believe it to be so or not, is a form of belief; since the non-existence of God cannot be proved, there must be a degree of faith involved in the argument. On the other hand, the non-existence of anything cannot be proved, when you get right down to it (incontrovertible proof of a negative being impossible, in philosophical terms). Though I cannot conclusively prove there is no Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy, it does not require faith for me to be pretty certain they don't exist (my apologies to those of you still getting a buck under your pillow). The burden of proof, argue the atheists, is not on them, but on those who believe in God.

Which is where I exit the whole debate. It seems to me that taking this question as an exercise in logical thinking is precisely the wrong tack. God is a feeling, God is an understanding at the depth of our beings that defies explanation. God is that sense that only the existence of something beyond our human understanding explains the nature of how the world flows in a certain way. Of course, I acknowledge that this could easily be a soothing fantasy, like the child who believes that Dad looking under the bed dispels all the demons that normally live there. Life is too frightening, the argument goes, to carry on without God.

To throw up my hands and say, "I don't know" is to many on both sides of the debate the pinnacle of cowardice, a fecklessness beyond the pale. Yet that is precisely where I find myself. Raised in a firm belief in God, converted to wholesale atheism in my young adulthood, then confronted with evidence of the miraculous in my recovery from alcoholism (and witnessing the recovery of hundreds of others), I have come to a place of entire comfort with the uncertainty of my belief. I can't believe in a creator God, unless with my mother I were to believe that God created the universe by setting the work of evolution in motion and then sat back and let it do its work, an attractive melange, I think. Still, there are too many inconsistencies and redundancies in the whole operation to believe in a creator God, unless we were also to posit God as a well-meaning bungler. Do you really want to attribute the creation of sickle cell anemia to an omniscient being?

But I can't give up my belief in the miraculous. Miracles happen daily, if our eyes are open to them. This, perhaps, is my most firmly held argument against those who would philosophically debate the issue: while their noses are stuck in books and their voices are raised in epistemological wrangling, both theists and atheists are missing what is right in front of them. There is a Flow to the world, and we are either of it or standing in opposition to it. The former is a source of joy, the latter a source of suffering.  I have experienced this from both sides and am certain of the truth of at least this much.What is the nature of this Flow? I haven't the slightest idea. But it is not entirely human in origin, at least not on the scale of the individual. Perhaps it is the result of the combination of all human souls (another loaded word) or even the souls of all beings who have ever been and ever will be. How should I know?

But I do know this: if a person is determined to do right in the world and enters into the work of each day with this desire, good is more likely to come to that person. If, on the other hand, one expects evil of the world, evil will come to him in disproportionate quantities. If one uses prayer not as a grocery list for God, our errand boy, to do for us, but as a way of realigning with the Flow of being a human living in a finite body in a finite world that nonetheless has infinite possibilities and extent in a spiritual sense, true happiness is more likely. Is this some sort of brainwashing or Pollyanna view of life? Am I merely fooling myself in order to feel better about the disorder and cruelty in the world? God knows.

Shifting Sands

I can't recall the film in which I saw it, but I have a distinct memory of a world that seems perfectly real, but that dissolves behind you as you walk through it, as if it were real only in the moment you are in it, but then devolves back into chaos (or nothingness) as soon as its usefulness to you (or the plot) is past.

I have been having a similar feeling the past few months. I feel my role changing at work. My role as a husband has changed. As a father, a son, a person in recovery—all of these roles are shifting and transmogrifying. And I don't like it. This is very striking at work: in their insecurity, the younger workers assert their superiority and seeing this so sharply in them, I perceive it ever more clearly in myself. Don't they know how very hard I have worked to get where I am? (I can hear the whining in my head). Don't they know who I am?

One of the clearer messages of the Buddha's teachings is that such change is inevitable. Not only is our house built on shifting sand, the house itself is made of insubstantial stuff, of spun sugar and clouds. (Just ask our plumbing, which is disintegrating and needs replacement, but that's an entirely different subject!) I have thoroughly accepted this intellectually; of course life is all about change, who doesn't know that? Of course we all grow old, sicken, die, get hurt, become feeble, lose our faculties, our memories, our abilities. Of course the young come up behind us with more energy and new knowledge and displace us. This is all as it should be! Of course. But emotionally I find myself ill-prepared for the new realities springing up around me.

I'm not complaining, really. I feel more bewildered than hurt by these things. The illusion of solidity is nonetheless a very comforting fantasy and change usually happens so slowly that it is easy to believe that there is a solid reality here. There isn't, in case you persist in this delusion. This is not bad news, of course. It is what it is. The Buddha's message is one of thorough acceptance of this reality, that there is, paradoxically, no reliable reality. In fact, if we are looking for substantiality, we can never be anything but insecure (which is why there are so many destructive actions in our world motivated by fear and insecurity).

I am studying Wagner recently, specifically the Ring Cycle, in preparation for seeing it next year. (For those of you not familiar with it, this is a cycle of four operas, three of which are in excess of three hours long). I wanted to be more familiar with these masterworks in order to better appreciate them. One thing I was surprised to learn is that Wagner was influenced by the proto-Buddhists of his day. The conclusion they seemed to draw (or at least the one that Wagner incorporated) was that there was no God and that any drive to perfectibility was futile. I'm not sure that's what the Buddha had in mind, but it is interesting that Wagner should assert this.

What this has to do with the subject at hand (other than the fact that they are both rattling around in my head together just now) is this idea, which Wagner incorporated rather late in his career: we must come to terms with the idea that our lives will never reach an ideal state and remain there. The opera cycle is fairly explicit in the vagueness of its conclusions (if that's not too much of a contradiction in terms). Pretty much everyone dies in these operas, which is rather odd. Usually there is one hero left standing (think the final scene of Hamlet). But Wagner was telling a different kind of tale, one full of allegory and intended more to assert a point of view than to entertain: no matter what our status in life—hero, lover, god, or mere mortal, stumbling along to our measly destiny—we are fated to encounter our mortality and the frustration of our desires. The Buddha was explicit that the problem in this scenario is not the frustration but the desires, not the death but the expectation of ongoing life, not the change but the thought that life can be anything but change.

This feels like cold comfort today. I want security and certainty and the warm, cozy feeling of knowing my role and doing it well. I work hard and deserve a reward. I have earned a certain position in the world and expect to be acknowledged as such. As the saying goes, good luck with that. One of the primary problems with this system of belief is that everyone else is asserting their own right to be considered and treated in a light that is complementary to them, too, so that our day-to-day existance can begin to feel like a constant jockeying for position rather than just living our lives.

Who We Are

Last week, there was a shooting in my neighborhood, this one just a block away, a drive-by that may have been gang-related. I don't think this means I live in a dangerous place, at least not more so than any city and much less than many.

I was in California visiting my family this weekend. Circumstances sensitized me to the many acts of kindness, large and small, that go on around us every day. They are many and often, from the person who donates millions to promote the well-being of strangers half a world away to the man who held open the lid to a garbage can for me. In fact, our society runs on consideration and kindness. One example: driving would be warfare if we didn't yield right-of-way, make way for merging traffic and drive at somewhat sane speeds. Oh, I know, there are lunatics and rude people on the road, too, but the level of civility implied by millions of miles of 65 mile-per-hour driving without constant altercation and mayhem is a monument to a deeply grounded ethic.

Governance in this country has been reduced to a cruel hoax, with entrenched interests playing off against one another for pieces of a shrinking pie which ought not, by all rights, be theirs to divide. The most vital questions of our era, of any era—global climate change, entrenched societal racism and sexism, economic inequality, systemic disenfranchisement, unchecked and increasingly futile militarism, macroeconomic senescence—are not even under discussion, while what passes for seriousness is empty posturing and deeply ignorant moral certainty.

With the exception of a vocal minority, the country has embraced the right of gay men and women to marry, parent, work and live without harassment or legal barriers.

The internet is an annoying rabble of scrabbling self-interest while being full to bursting with millions of people putting forth enormous amounts of time and effort to provide content, guidance, information and shared knowledge with no thought of return.

Fear—of personal economic ruin, poverty, otherness, violence, abrogation of freedoms—has led to a poisoned atmosphere of suspicion and hatred in a powerful minority of Americans.

Every devastating event—tornado, earthquake, flood, forest fire, drought—brings with it an outpouring of heartfelt generosity.

War has been a staple of the human species since Og first struck Oog with a rock in a dispute over mastodon steaks.

Considering its history of contention and bloody strife, the efforts of Europe to unify is amazing, fraught with peril and misguided provincialism, perhaps, but nonetheless a testament to the great, deep well of forgiveness and grace of which we are capable.

All over the country, every day, small groups gather—little Tea Party cells—to revile and feed their hatred of everyone who's not like them. All over the country, every day, small groups gather—little 12 Step cells—to collectively reach the realization that only when we love, honor and help others will we find fulfillment and joy.

Which is all to say that we are a surprising, frustrating, kind, mean, generous, selfish, fabulous, revolting, gentle, violent, hopeful, hopeless, intelligent, clueless, informed, ignorant, dumb, damned, doomed, delicate, decisive, disastrous, determined, dithering delight of a species.

What to make of us, eh?