Originally published by our elephriends over at Recovering Yogi on December 12, 2011.
I really don’t care, at all, what you eat.
By Kimberly Johnson
I hate being bored.
It’s a struggle since, life does include a lot of repetitive necessities — like brushing your teeth twice a day, for instance. But I have to say there is nothing more boring than a table full of yogis discussing their food choices.
Actually, I guess that depends on how you look at it. A self-righteous caloric cockfight, in one sense, could be considered entertaining. Think David Wolfe versus Sharon Gannon in an MTV Celebrity Deathmatch. However, I guess I have just been privy to way too many a vegan/raw food showdown to find it even vaguely interesting. Really.
“I’ve been raw for five years.”
“I got rid of my stove.”
“I’ve been a vegetarian since I was born.”
“You have NEVER eaten meat?”
“Do you eat meat?” (teacher trainee to me, loaded question)
“Yes, I do. I was a vegetarian for 20 years, but started eating meat when I was pregnant.” (note slightly defensive response with caveat — mentioning menstruation or pregnancy usually earns an honorary deference card)
“Because my body started craving meat and I started dreaming about hamburgers.” (true)
“Your baby was wanting meat; same thing happened to me” (another teacher trainee)
“How could your baby know what it wants?” (first trainee, flabbergasted)
“I don’t know what my baby wanted, but I wanted to eat hamburgers.”
This is more than I wanted to say about my food choices. But these are all conversations I overheard at lunch!
Unless you are telling me about the hunk of goat cheese that you just ate with some buckwheat-walnut-breadish thing with fresh figs soaked in rose water on salad greens, I don’t want to hear about it. (I didn’t just make that up, it was a crazily delicious meal I just had in Paris.)
While I am stating my preferences, for the record, I would love to hear about your food orgasms. (I know, the title is kind of a lie) The things that really turn you on. If those happen to be raw or vegan, so be it. I love me some nori and some raw coconut truffles. But if they happen to be sweetbreads or Brazilian barbeque, that’s fine too. I will share in your enthusiasm, even if I do wince.
But if your righteousness is getting in the way of your kindness, or your sense of humor for that matter, eat a Big Mac* and be a nice person.
* I did eat hamburgers while I was pregnant, but no big Macs.
About Kimberly Johnson
Kimberly Johnson is a yogini nomad who recently put the earth boots on for motherhood. After a lengthy love affair with India, she was relieved to fall in love with Brazil—and a Brazilian—and now lives in Rio de Janeiro with her 3-year-old Brazilian daughter. She leads retreats on the most beautiful place on earth: Ilha Grande, an island with 100 beaches and no cars; leads teacher trainings; and tries not to pronounce Sanskrit with a Portuguese accent. Rearranged by childbirth in every way, she travels, teaches, and learns about what yoga has to do with womanhood.
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