I’m not always sure we are heading in the right direction.
Plant based, gluten free, dairy free, fish oils, chia seeds, vitamins, juicing…the list goes on and on, and while I participate in much of it, some days I wonder why.
My grandparents didn’t take vitamins, they smoked, drank with friends. My grandmother made things like chicken cutlets, roasted pork, everything had gravy. My grandfather baked cakes, yummy cakes with real frosting, on just any old day. Their house always had a candy bowl and soda.
I know we live longer now, my grandparents did eventually die. My grandmother died quiet young, 59, because they weren’t big on going to the doctor either. They were the suck it up, have a good time on Montauk, drink a little too much and eat…hell, whenever you felt like it generation.
My grandmother was never obese, but she didn’t have abs or a core either and I guarantee she couldn’t tell you her BMI.
My grandfather smoked and eventually died in his 70s of heart failure. That means after seventy something years of living his life on his own terms, his heart stopped working. His body was done. That’s really not a bad run. I’m not sure I have it in me for much more than seventy something years.
How much life is enough? And when we think “quality of life,” does that ever include calm, relax, who gives a shit, joy?
I suppose it’s a balance. Sometimes when I find myself worrying about the trace amounts of whatever that is in soy milk that’s not good for you, I think about my grandparents.
What it means to live your life, just happy and not calculating things, reading endless articles, or medicating. Well, I guess my grandfather’s Reingold was it’s own form of medicating, but you know what I mean.
The pesticides on my grandmother’s vegetables may have caused her cancer. My grandfather may have made it into his 80s if he cut back on the smokes and stopped drinking. Maybe, but I doubt it.
What are we giving up with all this organic, probiotic, ridiculousness? I workout and eat right, but I can not keep a straight face when someone says, “Plantcentric” and I hope that never changes.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Midnight Snack.