My last one drew parallels between Rihanna’s battered face after an R’n'B smackdown with Chris Brown, and my own. Vesuvius-inspired imagery was rife, talk of apocalyptic eruptions and pulsating plague-like-pustules sprouted from the screen, and all with a tinge of self-deprecating sadness that betrayed a deeper discomfort with the state of my skin.

For all the jokes in the world cannot soothe the hurt and frustration of something chronic, visible, unresponsive.

So today, on the very morning I want to make like a wombat and burrow into the depths of my mattress, letting embarrassment reign and despair drown any skerric of lingering positivity, I choose to re-frame acne.

I want to put it out there that I am grateful for this piece of shit soul destroying son of a bitch painfully public skin condition.

(That slipped past my thinly-veiled-sarcasm radar.)

For as we know, challenges are always the greatest gifts. From them springs insight, resourcefulness, discovery, empathy. Without the rich, complex flavours of the melancholy mud-cake, there would be no shiny, sweet ganache. Unless of course you just made the icing anyway and ate it with a spoon. But that’s ruining my metaphor.

To give thanks to what ails us and acknowledge the opportunity within, waiting to be excavated with a little poise and dexterity, inherent in the shit-storm, is a more positive and healthy way of approaching a problem no?

The aim is not to cultivate an air of detached smugness, repeating the mantra ‘Its alllll goooooooooooooooooood’ whilst beating our emotions into submission. I don’t believe we should plaster over our feelings and present a continually colourful facade whilst seething on the inside. But more, to re-position ourselves to appreciate the beauty in adversity. What are we receiving? What is the lesson? How can we say CHEERS FOR THE ACNE, WORLD!?

(Just an FYI, without getting too self-indulgent, I have annoying moderate acne in a post-pill-hormonal-melee. 1.5 years later. It’s a bitch. And no, that’s not me in the picture. Oh, to have a solitary pimple!).

So because I am experiencing an acute bout of skin-induced self-pity, I am taking a moment to give thanks for my current predicament and find a wee bit of perspective amongst the drama.

• Thank you, acne, for toning down my vanity. I have learned to care less and do more, and desist with the princess palaver. Though sometimes making an appearance, she no longer commands the throne.
• I have explored zillions of theories about why acne occurs, researched and scoured the depths of libraries and the internet for information, and trialled an absurd amount of herbs, foods and therapies in the process. The result? First-hand experience. Reams of advice. Instant health-bent impetus. Without the self-centredness of trying to ‘fix’ my own problem, would I really give a hoot about zits? Probs not.
• I have been forced inward. In my naturopathic mind, I suspect hormonal imbalances and potential liver inefficiency to be the culprits in this pustular-saga. But on an energetic, spiritual level, I am compelled to ask more probing questions. After all, the hormonal system is synonymous with our emotional body; what is it that I need to unearth? Address? Make peace with? This may not appeal to the more scientifically minded, but this ain’t a scientific blog, sugar. And I really truly believe that illness stems from imbalances in the mind; constitutional tendencies; a lack of self-love, nurturing, respect. I am grateful that my body is giving me clues in red, inflamed, unsightly form as to what needs to be tackled. Better that then sailing along, blissfully unaware into the ass of a storm.
• Which brings me to my next point; I am stoked that my body is expressing itself. It may be going through some tumultuous teenage years; kicking and screaming and flinging sebum in every direction, but at least it’s venting. The suppression of symptoms or the inability to push out the gunge from within, is slightly more worrying. I have my detoxification channels open in view; my health journey playing out over my epidermis, and I am glad for the tangible indicator.
• I will never take having clear skin for granted again! Likewise, I am grateful to be included among the ranks of the many, many people who experience some kind of visible, awkward condition. Empathy is borne of understanding, and I sure as all hell can now understand the feelings of embarrassment, shame, self-loathing. Horrible, destructive emotions that they are, they are also quite humbling. And all judgement of others who wrestle with the same, evaporates. Solidarity remains. Most of us deal with some kind of real or imagined physical ‘issue’; let’s all just give each other a bleeding break!
• Thank you, acne, for imparting these lessons; although we may never be the closet of comedones, I can appreciate the gift of your presence. (Even though, on days like today, I want you to die a thousand hideous, torturous deaths. But I digress!)

Trying hard to see the light in a gloomy, bleak situation is tough, but ultimately constructive. This exercise can be applied to any health obstacle you may battering your head against and is a helpful tool for healing. For being able to identify what you body is really truly trying to communicate is one of the most profound pathways leading to cure/remission/peace/acceptance, whatever you want to call it. Couple that with positivity, and discover a recipe for funk-busting fabulousness!

Tell me, what challenges are you facing that can be re-framed? What are your symptoms trying to tell you?

The wedding of a long-lost acquaintance, forcing me out of stretchy pants.

A picnic at a packed public beach, necessitating body hair removal. (For the greater good).

Clasping a cup of tea with my extremely inelegant pincer grip, raising one pinky daintily to the sky and declaring, I AM WOMAN! Let there be tea.

In fact, tea is a transgender pleasure that brings comfort to even the gnarliest soul. Warming, filling, medicinal, social. It unites generations, diffuses tension, and is perfect for dunking. Anything. The heads of your enemies. Carrots, celery, fingers. Perfectly crisp biscotti; instant flaccid mush. Brilliant.

But we become somewhat set in our tea fancying ways, Lady Grey for some, Green for others. There is however, a whole smorgasbord of options at our disposal. In your pantry in fact, if you care to look. Don’t fall victim to that insufferable notion that it needs to be bagged and labeled to qualify. (Insufferable? This is what happens to your vocabulary after subjecting yourself to entirely too much Jane Austen. And tea.)

No. With a little creativity you can magic tea into being from just about anything. Once you’ve landed on a winning combo, you can even package it, emblazon with a ribbon, and gift it to your tea-loving buddies. Herbs in a baggie? Nothing suss.

My brilliant friend who makes the brilliant sautéed veggies and is entirely too brilliant to be named, also passed on this ludicrously simple and swish tea recipe that I am now appropriating as my own. You brew without copyright, you lose! But seriously, thanks for the life-changing tip lady. You know who you are.

Elegant cinnamon tea for the inelegant modern wo/man

Requires: Cinnamon quills. The best you can afford. Boutique, organic; you’ll taste the difference. I buy mine from Ovvio Organics in Paddington – Mecca of all things quaint, spicy and aromatic.

What you do is this: (read carefully, i’m only going to type this once).

• boil water
• select the best looking, perfectly scrolled cinnamon stick
• smush, break and rough it up a bit
• place in teapot (the larger the better – you’ll see why. If super big, use two quills)
• fill with boiling water, place in fridge on a heat-proof pad, and allow the flavours to get to know each other overnight

You can also spout your newfound knowledge that cinnamon is a potent blood sugar regulator, anti-microbial agent, and aromatic digestive, with a beautiful warming quality that puts a fire in your autumnal step.

It’s so sweet and delicious – I was blown away by the simplicity of this idea.

Don’t stop there though; a myriad of alternative, kooky combos lurk in the confines of the cupboard. Try fennel seeds, anise, ginger, cinnamon and cloves for a beautifully rich and complex teapot experience.

The medicinal qualities of tea cannot be overlooked. Drinking 3-4 cups of a dried herb mix daily is therapeutic (depending on the herb and it’s water solubility. Details.) To do simple, everyday cleansing of the digestive system, you can source St Mary’s Thistle seeds, Black Walnut Hulls, Dandelion and Fennel, grind, and drink before meals. May not taste as dreamy as the aforementioned offerings, but lady up and feel the cascade of digestive secretions tumble into motion. Or, for the less geeky, your guts get into gear.

This concludes today’s presentation on the numerous, nannerous benefits of pausing to enjoy a sensual, DIY herbal experience.

Any other favourite combinations or family recipes to share? How do you like your tea?

• A loony amount of vegetables (leading the way in global broccoli deforestation).
• Fat & protein; without a hearty helping of each, my stomach sulks.
• Seasonal and bodily demands; Do I need a more warming, winter offering? Am I famished after a crazy morning workout? What item contains the least amount of salmonella in my student-friendly fridge? (Just kidding. We’re the clean, anally-retentive type of student).

Generally, I treat lunch the same as any other meal; it is interchangeable with dinner or breakfast, and warrants equal amounts of time, care and taste. No el blando sambo’s or microwave meals here. And at this time of the Aussie year, my guts are demanding warm, nourishing, flavoursome fare to combat our sub-30-degrees-celcius winter weather. We’re all big kangaroo-wrangling sissy’s, really.

This has been a staple the last few weeks; Throw-together-sautéed-salad

A foodie genius friend of mine sometimes comes over to lay down the cooking law, and without fail makes sautéed veggies taste like an incredible Heston Blumenthaal banquet, every time. It’s similar to Mum’s cooking – each dish is spiked with a magical, unattainable essence one can never quite capture. This is my attempt, perfect for a wintery midday pause with aromatic fennel, turmeric, sweet caramelised onion and an orgy of earthy vegetables. I add eggs and mackerel for protein, and cook with ladle-fulls of coconut oil or homemade tallow for instant fatification.

Open-to-suggestion-ingredients (for one)

• 1-2 tbs diced red or brown onion (depending on your sulphurous veggie threshold)
• coconut oil or beef tallow for frying
• 1/2 tsp fennel seeds
• 1 tbs grated fresh turmeric (or 1/2 tsp powdered)
• vegetables; brussel sprouts, zucchini, broccoli, carrot, kale, cauliflower (chop up relatively small for speedy cooking)
• 1/2 diced avocado
• 2 soft boiled eggs
• mackerel fillets (optional, I had some leftover)
• fresh lemon for squeezing
• fresh parsley, basil, coriander for sprinkling artistically
• a few tbs homemade broth (water will work fine if you’re out)
• salt & pepper

What to do n shit

- Place 2 eggs in pot of water on the stovetop, bring to boil and set a timer for 3 minutes for soft yolks. Rinse & sit in cold water until ready to peel & serve.

- Heat coconut oil/tallow over low-medium heat in a pan and add diced onion & fennel seeds. Sauté until translucent and lightly golden.

- Add all veggies & turmeric, allowing to heat through before gluging 3-4 tablespoons of stock into the bottom in order for the veggies to steam. Cover with a lid, if you like, and cook for a few minutes until slightly soft. (But not denture-friendly-squishy).

- Remove lid and add a few shakes of salt & pepper to veggies; take off heat and serve.

- Add eggs, diced avocado, mackerel, lemon juice and fresh herbs for a super quick, super tasty and super satisfying lunchtime meal.

The geeky breakdown of why this particular plate-full of produce rocks:

• Cooking with heat-stable fats such as coconut oil or tallow prevents excess oxidation. They are tough, wily and saturated, with Hydrogen bouncers blocking oxygen’s gatecrashing party antics. Ergo; less free-radical consumption, and better arterial health for you!
• Fennel is a beautiful, calming herb that is wonderful for gastrointestinal upset, gas, bloating and all manner of gnarly digestive dilemmas. It is also subtly uplifting, according to our herbs teacher, so extra points for the happiness injection!
• Turmeric is one of the most potent antioxidants you can add to your regular diet, in my not-so-humble opinion. The research on Curcurmin (one of Turmerics’ active constituents) is brain-bending. It is a supreme anti-inflammatory and has been shown to induce cancer-cell death (apoptosis), and down-regulate over-active cell-proliferative pathways. (Say that with a mouthful of macadamias!). When it is paired with a fat (coconut oil, avocado) and piperine (a chemical constituent of pepper), it is galaxies more effective.
• Brussel sprouts, onion and other cruciferous veggies contain a high amount of sulphur which is fantastic for skin health, immune function and liver detoxification.
• If adding broth, you are enjoying the many benefits of nature’s gruesome multivitamin! Including high amounts of calcium, magnesium, glycine…all the minerals you’ve ever dreamed about in your nerdy nutritional nightmares.
• Fresh herbs such as parsley and cilantro are epic inclusions, sporting high amounts of iron, silica and with the added ability to chelate (or bind to) heavy metals such as mercury for daily detoxification. (I always add coriander for this reason, as I had amalgam fillings as a kid. Yikes).

Enough justification to eat the meal, already? Thought so. Get sautéing to reclaim your lunchtime mojo and enjoy a hearty, steamy bowlful o’ goodness.

(image source)

Perhaps some of you are already adept at forging ahead, guided by the grace of your own intuition and living life without reference to the beliefs and opinions of others. If so, my beetroot stained fingers applaud you. For most of us, external influences can impose increasingly on our habits, rituals and decision-making processes. We become entangled in hearsay, clutching to slivers of approval; so-and-so-said’s.

I must study Law otherwise my parents will emotionally sue me. My workouts need to leave me choking on my own bile (says the omniscient training police). Can one wear blue and green with nothing in between?

Dilemmas. Or are they?

Recently I’ve had a revelation. Nay, an epiphany. No, a glimmer of a sparkle wrapped in a thought inside a rainbow. (Not sure what herbal tea I’d been sipping THAT day).

It occurred to me that if I had a question, if I was unsure, I could just ask myself. I am the one living inside this unfortunately gingerous, freckly Caucasian shell; if something isn’t working, it will register.

Many of us become caught up in seeking the wisdom of others to remedy our problems or prescribe solutions for better living. Sometimes an idea seems so great and full of promise that we latch on with pearly incisors and leg it into the distance.

Example? Me going primal. Traditional. Paleo. Labels; whatever. A pillar of this approach is the appreciation of dietary fats; we are infatuated. Often, paleo-types can be seen streaking, naked, screaming; Fat! Geddditintttyyaa! Coconuts! Nuts! Butter! Cream! Triglyceride-induced coma.

I agree that we have experienced an unfortunate era of fat-dissin’, health-wrecking propaganda, leaving a dank skid mark over the wellbeing of the last two generations, but pitting extreme against extreme rarely produces a balanced result. Yes we need fats, but the dose maketh the poison. Or the liketh. I haven’t felt quite as amazing as those first few blissful months when I ate more moderately, recently becoming more and more convinced I could devour monstrous portions of fatty meat, tropical-islands-full of young coconuts and dark chocolate by the slab (which also has sugar – bad metabolic combo). Cue; worse skin, weight gain and sense of dietary dissatisfaction. 

Because I chose to worship (ahem, exaggerate!) the claims of certain health gurus, I moved away from what I intuitively knew to be right for my constitution and handed responsibility to the invisible other. Fat; good. Calories; annoyingly, heartbreakingly, still relevant (to a degree). 

It also applies to exercise; you may feel great about your chosen movement pattern, until someone interjects with a superior alternative. You try it; feels kinda shit. You persevere; no dice.

Ditto for major life choices, friendships, treatments for disease. All these decisions must be garnished with the right amount of knowledge, external advice and self-mentorship. 

To experiment, branch out and flee the mould is the most incredible gift you can give yourself. But to follow the rules of somebody else, blindly, detrimentally, is bonkers. We must temper curiosity with sensibility. Does it seem right? Sensical? Aligned with your beliefs? Ask the tapeworm.

With that, I’d like to hear how you all find the right path, and if you’re adept at consulting the inner wizened shaman.

One of the things I love about cacao is the incredible euphoria that comes with excess consumption. I’m talking, unreasonable amounts. A block of Loving Earth here. Three tablespoons in a smoothie there. You’ve just angled your ant-eater tongue into the last crevasse of raw cacao wrapper when suddenly you’re alight. Elated, giddy, restless. Your heart is a herd of wildebeest and you fear for your adrenals. But amidst the cardiovascular frenzy opens a tiny trapdoor of calm, and creative inspiration flows like a river of warm, melted ghee.

I always consider chocolate a magical, sensual food; somewhat like a drug and certainly a tool for heightened awareness. It should be treated as such. Special.  Occasional. (Working on it).

The long-winded intro was mostly to segue into the topic for this post; and also to linger on the amazingness of the bitter brown stuff. It was after a particularly indecent assault on this most sacred ingredient that I came across a post on Tim Ferris’s blog, written by four young guys determined to live a wild, enviable and thoroughly inspiring existence. They set out to accomplish ridiculous goals such as shooting hoops with Barack Obama (done!) and breaking into the playboy mansion (also done!). Dudes mean business.

They created The Buried Life – a movement designed to prod people into contemplating their own bucket lists; envisioning the improbable (but not impossible) and recklessly going for it. After my mini cacao bender, cackling in the corner like manic old hag, I was on an inspiration rampage and began manifesting under the influence.

I got to thinking about my ultimate to-do list; the top 50 mind-blowing experiences I could possibly conjure in my crack-addled brain.

A random sample:

1. Publish a best-selling book.
2. Give a motivational speaking seminar.
3. Go on a holiday with no luggage.
4. Hire a boat and meander down the Seine river drinking beaucoup de vino with beaucoup des amis.
5. Do a push-bike tour of Tasmania.
6. See Uluru.
7. Swim with a whale.
8. Spend a night alone in the desert.
9. Raise & kill an animal to eat; use every part.
10. Meet the Dalai Llama.
11. Meet Mark Sisson; ponder macadamias. Guest post on his blog.
12. Shave my head.
13. Meet Tim Winton; chat about writing over tea.
14. Walk to base camp.
15. Make a documentary.
16. Meet David Attenborough. Tell him I dig his dungarees.
17. Practice yoga every day for a year.
18. Set up a healthy, organic, self-sustaining ‘soup’ kitchen.
19. See the Aurora!
20. Read the complete works of Shakespeare.
21. Run naked through a field of Lavender in Southern France…

Etc.

How amazing would my life be if I did half of these things? If it seems unrealistic to tackle such lofty goals, consider this fantastic quote from Tim Ferris:

Ninety-nine percent of people believe they can’t do great things, so they aim for mediocrity. The level of competition is highest for realistic goals because most people don’t set high enough goals for themselves. But not only do you statistically have a better chance of achieving what may seem like an unrealistic goal, doing so fuels you.  Once you feel the first high of accomplishing something major and seemingly unattainable, you want to go bigger and badder, and you force yourself to fulfill the need all the more. Even better, the technically smaller goals suddenly seem less daunting.

With that, I want to hear the most bonkers, spine-tingling dreams you can muster. Don your Harry Potter specs and magic them into being! Or at least into the comments section. 

It’s funny, the way we limit ourselves. Moulding to convention like compliant little amoebas. Let your imagination boggle beyond the furthest lavender fields of reality, and really start to ponder the expansive, infinite possibilities of our existence. 

Until then, I’m going back to my happy place; the kitchen. There may be cacao involved, give us a moment. But the to-do lists live on, and will be furiously ticked in the coming years. Excellent; can’t wait to make David Attenborough my BFF.

Happily, my new oven and I are BFF’s; it’s smokin’ hot and churns out lamb shoulders and pig bellies to a succulent tee. I’ve discovered that you could throw a rotten old boot in there and it would emerge crispy and edible. Ovens. Chuck shit in and walk away.

This has led me to appreciate the glory of slow-cooking, especially meats, for criminally tender meals that are free from aggressive oxidation (cough, pork crackling, cough). If you throw a massive hunk of cow in there for 10 hours at 90 degrees, you’ve got yourself a buttery roast.

It’s a double whammy of cheapness (cuts of meat requiring longer cooking are generally less expensive) and health. When you burn the bejeesus out of proteins, these irritating compounds are formed called HCA’s (heterocyclic amines) and PAH’s (polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons). Nothing like a cancerous gravy to spoil the evening.

Slow cooking reduces the formation of HCA’s! & PAH’s! and reputedly retains more nutrients, though I couldn’t find any evidence to substantiate my whimsical claims. Look, it’s going to taste radical; do you really need a scholarly journal to sour the magic?

I’ve been getting busy, experimenting with bits of beast I can’t even identify, let alone cook. There were some intriguing slabs of wallet-happy grass-fed thigh at work the other day that I had to investigate. They sang to me from the fridge, winking with big, meaty, marrow-filled eyes and looking a little too much like a pair of boobs. I bought. I puzzled.

Boob-like right?

‘Twas Osso Bucco; Italian for ‘bone with a hole’ – referring to the marrow bone at the center of the cut. (Poetic lot aren’t they?) It is generally the cross-cut of a veal shank and needs some lengthy oven-massage to morph into a succulent delight fit for a paleo queen!

Speaking of sucking, the marrow in the bone is a revered portion of the meal, unleashing the frenzied wolverine in us all and demanding a thorough tounge-swizzling. Historically people went bonkers for the stuff, and observed animals doing the same. It is extremely fatty, wielding the heart foundation tick of thorough disapproval.

Nutrient and caloric density is probably why wild animals lose their faeces over it, but I suspect it may house other undiscovered nutritional properties as well. Bone marrow has a crucial function in the body, responsible for bone remodeling, breakdown and repair, adipocyte formation (fat cells), certain immunological functions and connective tissue formation. Bones also give us our basic shape, stature, structure, hoisting us along with muscle tissue to the high heavens. Eating the innermost jelly of our being is surely a powerful symbol; like drinking the blood of our enemies, or ingesting your own urine. Though I’m not sure what message that could possibly send, other than that you’re committed to recycling.

Anyway! This osso bucco character needed to be prepared, and after some vague research I settled upon a plan of action. True to form, I’m giving you meal guidelines in lieu of a recipe. That way, you experiment like the creative and zesty chefs you are, and I am not liable for culinary mishaps!

Ingredients:

2 Osso Bucco shanks

Butter/ghee for frying

Homemade chicken, beef or lamb stock*

White or red wine

Chopped or crushed tomatoes*

Diced carrot, celery, onion & garlic

1-2 bay leaves

Rosemary, thyme, sage….herbs of your fancy

Fresh parsley & lemon zest, for garnishing

(Also, if you wouldn’t mind putting on an obnoxious, British Jamie Oliver twang while you read these instructions aloud, that would enhance the whole experience).

You get your meat. You thank the deceased beast in question.

Pukka. Wicked. Lubly jubly.

Heat up some butter or ghee in a pan, medium heat, and add your shanks, cooking for a couple of minutes on each side simply to brown.

Realise you haven’t preheated the oven yet and frantically set to 160ish degrees Celsius.

Remove meat from pan and place in a crock pot, baking dish, or pyrex.

In the pan with leftover buttery meat juice, hock in your onion, carrot and celery over a low-ish temperature to turn translucent and tender. Once they’re soft and submissive, add the garlic and extra herbs, stirring nonchalantly whilst sipping a balloon full of shiraz. Don’t be alarmed if it’s only 8am.

Add stock, a few glugs of wine and chopped tomatoes to pan; bring to the boil and simmer for a minute, just to let the flavours get to know each other (there needs to be enough liquid to nearly cover the osso bucco in the dish.)

Pour liquid & veg over meat, season with salt and pepper and cover with lid, or baking paper & foil (don’t place alfoil directly over contents – can leach nasty stuff).

Fang it into the oven; walk away and do a workout, catch up on the hordes of amazing health blogs out there or meditate. For 3-4 hours.

When you unwrap the meaty present hours later, be ready to face a meltingly soft shank bathed in a rich, luscious pool of sauce, perfectly paired with a sweet potato and coconut cream mash, steamed greens and a garnish of lemon zest and parsley.

And marrow. Don’t forget the marrow.

Recipe notes:

* Be vigilant with your stock! ALL of the powdered varieties contain that sneaky MSG devil, as well as those ‘fresh, natural’ liquid varieties. I recommend being a man and making your own. See my post on bone broth for the low-down.

* Canned tomatoes aren’t a swell idea, if you’re asking. The acidity of the tom’s tends to break down the BPA lining of the can. Go for glass jars, or freshly squished.

• I’ve been to yoga four days in a row.
• I freaking love it.

Yes, coming from the girl who proudly (and with great ignorance) declares she doesn’t believe in stretching. Coming from the 23 year old whose mobility rivals an elderly paraplegic newt (do they even have legs?). Coming from the idiot who was so intimidated by all things flexi and serene that she dug her vibrams into the sand all these years, refusing to acknowledge the obviously life-altering practice of yoga.

Why would I be such a stubborn shit about it?

Dunno. I think it’s a combination of fierce shame that my toes remain light-years away from my fingertips, together with this weird fixation on being ‘gung-ho’; hammering a workout; clinging to that last little slice of non-hippie-ness. Because a naturo herbalist who believes in barefooting, chakras and squatting to poo practicing yoga is just too big a cliché.

There is also an element of slowing down that is hard for me to accept. I hazard a guess that many of us wrestle with the same affliction; equating more measured, subtle forms of relaxation & self-improvement with ineffectiveness. Harder, better, faster, stronger? Soul-strengthening mindfulness flies under the radar and is usurped by things that pay immediate, muscle-tearing dividends.

This approach may well be a cataclysmic mistake.

The more we can exercise self-love and present moment awareness, the more able we are to really live, and live like champions. Flexing our mindfulness muscle allows us to be deeply aware, alive and content in each flickering frame of our day. Yoga does just that.

The negative implications of pushing and struggling in life have cropped up a few times this week, and I felt it was a nice thing to address today in the context of holistic wellness. I’m about to appropriate a ‘lesson from the mat’ to the blog, so watch out all you cynics and sceptics; we may be about to experience some momentary turbulence and service interruption on this usually flippant, superficially-inclined website. I’m getting spiritual on yo collective asses.

The thing is, sometimes…most of the time…less is more. My amazing, guruish, divine, unselfconsciously 95% nekkid yoga teacher said two striking things today (for, every class is like a bloody sermon on life; in the best, most enlightening way possible). He said:

• Our bodies are subtle creations, and as such, respond to subtlety. There is no use being forceful, punishing, severe. How we need to approach our yoga practice and similarly life, is with a soft, gentle, touch. Get to know our bodies; holding out a hand, no sudden movements, like to a timid animal, to sniff. Only then will it open up and trust. Only then we can harness our own beautiful, devastating complexity.
• He also said we each have a finite amount of energy. How interesting. An energy bank you say? A fixed number of watts capable of propelling us forward until we expire? I like it.

I like the idea that resistance is uneconomical in an energetic sense. Constantly berating ourselves, stoically charging uphill, doggy-paddling against a treacherous rip; all quite taxing on our fuel reserves. Are we at risk of burning out prematurely if we keep racing, racing, racing; forcing our physical and spiritual bodies into triangular peg holes if really, we’re squares?

Like most magical moments in life, this weekly theme was recurring. Another life-coach/intuitive acquaintance reminded me that only through love can we truly achieve our destinies. As in, doing things with love. Doing what we love.

That sentence may be off-putting due to the high concentration of love/peace/unity allusions – I’m inwardly cringing at my own mystical, spoon-bending tone. But at the risk of losing some sarcastic cred, I’m going to roll with it. Haters be hatin’.

It’s a startlingly simple assertion that the only things with real stickability in life are those we actually enjoy doing. You’re only going to persevere with the stairmaster long term if you really, truly get some kind of perverse kick out of pounding your toosh up and down in repeato mode. Otherwise, sooner or later, you’re going to get over it.

I’ve been pondering this lately with exercise. How often do we pursue certain activities, workouts, runs, just to be ‘fit’? Active. Somewhat proactive in burning off that sly piece of paleo cheesecake or three we sneakily devoured at work (um, have I not read my own post on the silliness of exercise to burn calories? Tsk tsk). The sudden realisation that many of our daily practices are borne of guilt, inflated goal-setting and dogged commitment can be both challenging and liberating.

It’s a challenge to what most of us consider to be good and right and strong to consider that maybe we should just ease the hell up and do shit we dig. Since when did life have to be ball-bustingly hard? Yes, yes, we must all face our fears, step out of our comfort zones and actively live in the now, but why do we get so caught up in doing deliberately hard, yucky things? Grimacing our way through the day to prove that we are in some way heroic. A type of martyrdom perhaps?

So. Back to yoga. As I left my fourth consecutive class, floating out the door on a cloud of endorphins as you do, it occurred to me that I really liked this activity. The people around me were so warm and welcoming; the hour and a half of flowing poses took on a new life with each session, like a mini narrative with a beginning, middle & end. It was invigorating! I had participated in something mind-broadening, heart-opening and groin-tingling.

Between that, beach sprints, impromptu ocean swims and a smattering of primal-inspired, high-intensity workouts, I feel a deep sense of fun present in my exercise. I’m actually not that keen on long winded jogs, bike-rides and lonely gym sessions. They hurt. I have to force myself, coccyx between my legs, out the door to do them. Futile resistance? Likely.

Why not instead base the sweat sessions around fun things?! Revelation!

Many aspects of our lives can be examined thus. We do battle with ourselves, against instinct, intuition and interests, forcing the issue until we crumble in an ashy heap. Most things are easier if we just allow a little flow into our practice; stare softly at what lies ahead and find the path of least resistance. Challenge yourself of course, but go with your gut, dabble in things you love and keep the junk in that energy trunk!

I’m interested to hear your thoughts. Do you agree that we should resist less and live more? What daily practices do you enact to get in the groove, zone, mindful flow?

Beverage of legends? Water, on the rocks.

Diet philosophy? Eat real food.

Fashion persuasion? Burlap sack. (Rouge up your cheeks with smears of beetroot and you’ve got yourself a fresh summer look).

What kinda sorta worries me however, is the oversimplification of simple. A blinkered approach where critical thought gives way to convenient (often marketable) molecules of misinformation. Especially to do with health.

Black and white bombshells such as ‘LDL = bad, evil, home-wrecking cholesterol; HDL = happy clappy cardiovascular hero’.

And ‘The more omega-3 (supplementation) the merrier!’

In the primal community; ‘Eat more fat; vilify carbs’

Let’s not forget every generic women’s magazines secret beauty bombshell; ‘Drink water to look like x photoshopped supermodel’ (No. Freakin’. Way!)

The list goes on. And on. (Then eventually stops).

My point being, sometimes we must don our detective caps and forage around in the undergrowth for a more nuanced, compelling, complex answer. Taking comfort in the one-dimensional advice from the nutters in charge is no recipe for sustained healthfulness. In fact, we need to ask more questions; complicate the scene, even temporarily. You’ll find us flinging undies and bra-straps and moth-eaten mittens from our bulging sock-drawer until we arrive at a higher truth (why do I still have my lucky knickers from grade 2, unwashed? And why does rummaging through our underwear department lead to enlightenment?).

Let’s first address some of the atrociously oversimplified assertions above. They really get up my goat gouda.

Ding-ding! Dumbass alert.

Cholesterol is one of the biggest, phattest topics in the world of disease, diet and drugs. It’s a dirty word. It is the endemic evil circulating in our bloodstreams, scoping out cosy little crevices in vulnerable arteries to clog. What a spiteful, vicious little molecule. Exterminate!

Yo world, get a clue.

Let’s ask this: why would our bodies produce up to 2000 mg a day of such a nasty substance? Where is the physiological logic in that?

If there’s one thing we should appreciate by now, it’s that the processes our bodies enact daily, hourly, nano-secondly are the result of hundreds-of-thousands of years of refinement. Everything inside our funky outer shell works together like a beautiful eco-friendly engine, purring and humming and operating in synergy (until we chuck in diesel petrol and sawdust).

Cholesterol is not the bad guy. It is a (very, very important) part of our internal landscape, and is actually trying to ASSIST in our health and repair, if we didn’t smother it with statins.

Confused about what cholesterol actually is?

(source)

It is an organic chemical substance classified as a waxy steroid of fat (thanks Wikipedia!). It has innumerable functions in the body, but most of us make the ‘cholesterol/heart disease’ connection. Doesn’t that shit clog your arteries?

Blasphemy!

The truth is, cholesterol is actually acting like a ‘bandaid’ for damaged arterial walls and tissue, patching up the carnage caused by high blood-sugar levels, toxins, denatured proteins and oxidised fats. The ‘LDL’ and ‘HDL’ we always hear about are actually proteins that act as transport vehicles for cholesterol itself (riding inside it’s little chariot).

LDL gets a bad rap because it’s the caboose that takes cholesterol from the liver to the extremities, veins & arteries – oversimplification starts here: LDL therefore, must be the culprit in atherosclerotic plaque formation cos it’s putting it there, right?

Did we ever wonder if our helpful little fatty waxy steroid was instead eagerly trying to plug up the leaks?

Mind-blowing ass-kicking fact: 80% of what actually clogs arteries is not even composed of cholesterol or saturated fat, but is comprised of oxidized or rancid unsaturated fats (Enig 2001). We’ll get to the oxidation issue later ‘ron.

HDL on the other hand; the medical ‘hero’, returns the same cholesterol back to the liver for reuse (FYI: our bodies love cholesterol so much they engage in active recycling!).

Other amazing, invaluable functions of cholesterol include:

• Precursor to stress and steroid hormones (we need it to make oestrogen, progesterone, testosterone, adrenaline, cortisol, DHEA and vitamin D).
• Integral component of cell membranes; helps to ‘insulate’ the cell and allow separate chemistry to occur inside vs. outside the cell.
• Makes up the nerve sheaths in the brain and is therefore paramount in noggin’ development and growth (ESPECIALLY for kiddies).
• Affects the function of neurotransmitters (positively) and is therefore vital for mood regulation.
• Can be beneficial to the gastrointestinal lining; helps to reduce membrane permeability (i.e leaky gut).
• LDL serves as a transport mechanism for super-vital fat-soluble nutrients, antioxidants and fats.
• Acts itself, as an antioxidant.

Helllllo glaringly obvious answer: WE NEED CHOLESTEROL! We thrive on it.

Both HDL & LDL cholesterol are essential, in a balance. In fact, new studies are emerging that paint a pretty bleak picture of low cholesterol and it’s association with certain cancers, psychological disorders, hormonal imbalances, stroke and Parkinson’s disease. From the functions outlined above, these conditions make sense.

Another strike against oversimplification; more is not better, less is not better. Can we get some measured appreciation up in here?

Let’s also discuss the ingestion of cholesterol-containing foods and the near-sightedness of placing people on fat-reduced, cholesterol-fearing, high-carb intervention diets.

As I mentioned earlier, our bodies endogenously (within) produce up to 2000 mg of cholesterol per day, all by their-clever-selves. It’s a tough ask though, and food-dervied cholesterol is actually preferred as it gives the liver some respite from having to manufacture it. Cholesterol has always been a part of our diets; hunter-gatherer folk ate it in abundance from animal sources, and it is only in recent times that it has become the scape-goat of the medical industry looking for some agent to blame for skyrocketing rates of cardiovascular disease (let’s all give high-fructose corn-syrup, trans fats, vegetable oils and refined carbohydrates the collective stink-eye). When we eliminate cholesterol, something funny happens.

Well, not funny ha, ha. Funny, bad.

The liver starts to produce an enzyme called HMG-CoA reductase which actually signals the body to manufacture extra cholesterol from dietary carbohydrates to compensate. In overdrive. We can’t escape, because we were never meant to! As an additional insult, if we are manufacturing cholesterol from our high intake of refined sugars, our blood sugar levels will also be elevated, insulin will spike, thus creating perfect conditions for arterial damage (sugar in the blood stream is a big neddy no-no) and subsequent patch-up band-aid jobs.

Statins, the drugs commonly prescribed to lower cholesterol are another brain-fuck of the pharmaceutical industry. They inhibit HMG-CoA reductase, ergo cholesterol production. Logical no? Well, no. It ain’t that simple, sugar.

They may lower cholesterol levels on paper, but they also deplete the bodies natural stores of CoQ10 – it prevents the oxidation of fats/cholesterol, and is the premier nutrient for proper heart function. On top of this, the actions of statins to ‘lower’ CRP scores (a marker of inflammation in the body) may actually be due to their damaging effects on the liver – the reason people’s inflammatory markers go down is because they can’t even produce them any more! Does this solve any problems? Seems to me like it just cheats on the test.

So surely there must be SOME link between cholesterol and cardiovascular disease? Well, yes. Health matters aren’t that simple now are they? Good god I’m catching on!

The real problem appears to be OXIDISED LDL cholesterol. These molecules are smaller, denser, and are effectively rancid. They are yet another delicious ingredient in conventional dairy products (god bless pasteurisation – cooking our foodstuffs into oxidative oblivion) and practically any nasty processed frankenfood you can think of, especially those exposed to high heat and insane processing methods.

We can also oxidize our own cholesterol, thank you very much! When things get inflamed and angry on the inside, our fats tend to self-destruct. This is what results in arterial plaque formation.

And just an FYI, statin drugs do nothing to address oxidised LDL.

I hope this brief foray into the geeky world of lipoproteins and health myths has given you a bit more of a handle on the whole cholesterol debate, and perhaps sparked some interest in pursuing alternative view-points, other than those espoused by the monkey’s in charge. This is the most compelling info I can find about the topic, but feel free to add your own 2 pennies and ask probing questions I most likely won’t be able to answer!

To recap:

• Our bodies lust after cholesterol and produce it in abundance every. single. day.
• Every cell in the body contains cholesterol, and it is used for a host of incredibly important bodily processes, not least of which is the walls of our cells!
• Cholesterol from whole food sources keeps our endogenous levels in balance; eliminating it in our diet signals FAMINE! to our body, sending it’s own cholesterol-making factory into overdrive.
• Cholesterol acts as a band-aid; let’s stop wounding ourselves!
• Oxidised cholesterol is the most harmful substance, from processed foods and inflammation in the body. Avoid! Avoid!
• Drugs commonly prescribed to ‘lower’ cholesterol levels appear to be largely ineffective and miss the crux of the issue, often exacerbating the problem.

Thanks for tuning in guys! Now go enjoy a massive egg yolk omelette cooked in bacon grease, garnished with seal-blubber jerky; revel in the healthfulness of cholesterol and feel empowered in the knowledge our bodies are smarter than we’ll ever be. Let’s not mess with their madness.

x

Oh em geeeeeee there she is on the left! I am such a creepy stalker. Truth.

She did however reinforce the idea of naked honesty – the kind that sees you wear that second head on your shoulder with pride, paddle gaily with those webbed toes, and declare without fear when you’re struggling. Shrunken heads and interesting gene expression aside, I think it’s incredibly refreshing that someone so prominent in the self-improvement industry is willing to teeter on a flimsy limb and divulge their emotional turmoil.

She made a point of saying that she does not champion this pursuit of unequivocal, hell-bent happiness that many of our self-help mentors appear to prescribe. You’re not living if you’re not 100%, jaw-breakingly happy! Smile. Harder! Wider! No. We collectively sat a little deeper in our seats when Sarah stood up and with brilliant frankness told us she revels in sadness. It’s a natural foil to happiness, no? It’s the emotion that brings it into being. A state we can’t always escape, nor should we. It’s fine to be sad; sit with it, take the lesson. Just living should be the goal, not necessarily an insane determination to be permanently, mindlessly jolly.

With Sarah’s blessing, I am therefore putting out there that sometimes, I fall in a heap. I’m sure this is no great anomaly; we all do. We sometimes lose perspective and go into life-anaphylaxis; swelling, hearts racing, eyes closing over – a hyper-response. (There I go again using ‘we’ at the start of sentences to rope you all in to my predicament! Take responsibility Catie, wo-man up already! Is talking to yourself on a blog the second sign of insanity? The first is being in your early 20s.) When you find yourself stuck in this viscous quagmire, nothing more has to be done than just knowing it will pass. You will see that goddamn light and claw your way out of the well. It’s ok to just ‘be’ shitty.

But when you’re ready to deflate, step-back and regroup, it can require a little push. Building support structures around yourself so you don’t collapse with jelly legs can be a good option.

So last week when I was sulking and moaning and being a right pouty princess, I made it my mission after I had dealt with the (real/imagined/illusory) problem, to bombard myself with positivity and get back on the camel.

One: Make an appointment with yourself. Check in, cut to the chase, take stock and separate your emotions from the reality of the situation. Be kind; speak to yourself as if you were counselling a dear friend. Have an honest conversation with your ‘inner people’ (as Eugene Tan would say).

Two: Lean on your buddies. Your friends are there to support and care for you. (And to drink & party with – but this is not one of those times!) Their advice will uplift you; seek out the most positive in your flock and bask in their goodwill.

Three: Take time out. A short segue into nature will usually foster positivity. It can seem like an effort to hoist yourself off the couch, from between the sheets, or out of your burlap sad-sack, but even just planting your hobbit feet firmly on earthy soil can be beneficial for health! In an actual, real-life, scientific way n stuff. Go to the beach. Go to the park. Go now, read the rest of this entirely irrelevant post later.

Four: Write about it. Grab a pen, marker, quill, and write your guts out. Nut out what’s going on in that noggin’ and purge it onto paper. It can be such a cathartic experience to attack a surface with all your problems; scribbling away frantically until that rope of angst that was coiled in your stomach is unravelled onto a page. Once you can ‘hold’ your issues in a tangible way, some people like to make a little witchcraft. Like burn it (ooooh, dramatic!), freeze it (bizarre, but i’ve seen it done) or re-write the whole thing with ‘solutions’ and a positive spin.

Five: Meditate. It seems that many problems we face in our day-to-day lives can be traced back to a certain unease, discontent, discomfort with simply ‘being’. I procrastinate like hell by watching a tv show, checking my emails, eating and balancing a jug on my head simultaneously – avoiding life itself by filling up my immediate reality with stuff. Nonsense. I have a theory that our attention spans are so short now that we require constant stimulation, cluttering our lives with technology and instant gratification. We fail to commit to any one task (which is why I have 6 billion tabs open in Safari right now) and scuttle through the shrubbery, missing the trees. Meditation, the practice of simply being present, is a fantastic antidote to this crazy modern affliction. Since diligently doing it these past couple of weeks, it’s easier for me to focus my attention, resulting in a deeper more meaningful contentment. Of course, getting about on a hovering lily pad ain’t too shabby either. High and mightiness aside, just give it a go. You can download some amazing free podcasts such as ‘Meditation Station’ in iTunes, and doing them before bed is a great way to soothe an overactive mind. I also have an app called ‘Meditation Oasis‘ on my iPhone, which is helpful, despite the semi-irritating, languid American drawl (no offence! But kinda).

Six: Podcasts! Speaking of podcasts, I’ve been getting super embarrassingly geeky and downloading a shittonne of the suckers. I find they are the ultimate distraction (in a good way!) when you’re moping about the place. Stick one on and become instantly informed, even comforted (totally feels like Robb Wolf is my in-house buddy now. Private paleo tuition!). Some of my favourites are Revolution Health Radio (with Chris Kresser), Ted Talks, The skeptics guide to the Universe, Primal-body Primal-mind (Nora Gedgaudas), The Paleo Solution, The Writers Block (chilled out book-reading, poetry-spouting goodness), Graham Norton (for a bit of comedic silliness), Dr. Karl on Triple J, All in the mind (ABC sciencey stuff), Balanced Bites and various other offbeat radio shows. Fun with a capital nerd.

These are some of the tools I’ve found happily helpful when i’m indulging in a little quiet despair. Of course, if it’s something big, scary and overwhelming, I would obviously encourage you to see a pro. Supremely important and potentially life-altering. Don’t stick on a podcast if you need some therapeutic action!

Any other suggestions from the great beyond?

I, meanwhile, am off to wriggle my toes in the sand and synthesise some vit D. Over and out.

What if I dropped an F (for fitness) bomb and posited that weight management may have more to do with hormones and inflammation than hamster-wheel, dreadmill drudgery and semi-starvation? Perhaps you may stop reading right now, breathe a rattling sigh of relief, and park yourself in front of a Biggest Loser marathon; smug, absolved of your 5am fitness first elliptical date.

Please don’t attempt any of the above. The reinforced lulu bra’s really smart on the twang. But DO hear this crazy polemic out!

Train like a caveman on crack

The general consensus on weight-loss is calories in, calories out, long, steady cardio and an avoidance of all things fatty, meaty, sweety and rich. All these assertions, bar one, are complete and utter grass-fed bollocks. (Yes, sugary sweetness has to go). There is so much more to weight management and homeostasis (bodily balance) than this puny little excuse for a wellness mantra. Like, get some complexity, conventional wisdom.

I’m feeling silly. You want me to lay it down, g-bitch style?

If you’ve got a tubby tyre and it has to go, 

Shun weight-watching, fat-counting diets, yo.

There’s a whole heap more to the plump-ass pie, 

Listen up, grab a steak, let’s unwrap the lie.

Insulin, leptin, inflammation fo’ real, 

Dictate your success with unbridled zeal.

Y’all got a setpoint, a fatness-o-stat, 

Your diet, your stress, yo sleep’s where it’s at.

Cortisol’s the enemy, let’s take him down, 

Chow on fat, lose the carbs, adipose be brown.

Let’s hark on back to ancestral days, 

Dem g’s be lean, lets count the ways. 

You want my advice? Cut the cardio crap,

HIIT some sprints, lift some bells, bust out a rap.

Please don’t judge this bonkers confession, 

Throwing down stanzas in rhyming succession. 

Read on for some messed-up weight loss shiz, 

The industry’s whack, sabotage the biz. 

AWKWARD.

Moving on to the (dubious) content.

Let’s ask a mind-boggling question that thwarts everything we think we know about energy input and expenditure. How do lean-ass folk, without reference to calories, macronutrient ratios or weight-watcher points, maintain a constant body mass? Why don’t incremental increases in calorie consumption accumulate and cause their weight to fluctuate wildly (like my blog-posting schedule)? Perplexing. Baffling. An homage to the amazing an intricate systems of regulation and balance that govern our bodily processes, more like.

Certain macronutrients are metabolized differently for one. Fats and protein are like slow-burning logs on our metabolic fire and are used for a host of structural, hormonal and antioxidant purposes before being shunted into fat deposits as a last resort. Whereas carbohydrate, glucose, is kindling. Burn it or store it, baby.

(source)

Our unique gut flora dictates how much energy we extract from our food, and how it is utilised.

Our hormones, appetite control mechanisms and stress levels engage a continuous dialogue with our obese-o-meter.

Genes and their expression can inform fat storage, placement and body composition.

Thyroid function, fatty-acid balance and nutrient deficiencies tag along for the ride.

(Abrupt. Sentence. Overload)

The biggest, boldest and most badass idea that is floating around the (credible) health community though, is the idea of a ‘setpoint’. A predetermined status quo unique to the individual. A comfy beanbag of superfluous padding on which your bodacious behind likes sit, maintain and ferociously defend. It works both ways; ‘skinny’ people may struggle to put size on, overweight folk have trouble making lasting changes. This is summed up in Chris Kresser’s latest podcast (recommended listening). An excerpt from the transcript:

“The body has a system for maintaining a level of fat that’s appropriate for the human ecological niche, and this is called the energy homeostasis system or the homeostatic regulation of weight, and it’s this system that’s one of the main reasons it’s so hard to keep weight off once you lose it, because the homeostatic system responds to any reduction in fat.  Like if you lose 20 pounds, let’s say, this homeostatic system will increase hunger, it will decrease your resting energy expenditure, so even when you’re just sitting down the number of calories that you’ll burn will be lower, and it extract more calories from the food that you eat, so your metabolic efficiency goes up.  So, it has all of these mechanisms that are basically working against you when you lose weight to get you back to that body fat setpoint or what it thinks is the ideal weight for you.  On the other hand, if you were to gain 10 or 15 pounds, the body responds in the opposite way.  It would decrease hunger, it would increase your resting energy expenditure, so you burn more calories just sitting there, and it would extract fewer calories from the food that you eat, and by doing that your weight would also fall back down to the setpoint.” (source)

Hey, no eye-rolling. It’s not as monstrous and bewildering as meets the retina.

Right now you’re scowling at the computer screen, wondering how the hell you can compete with such metabolic certainty?

Luckily for you, despite the mutifactorial nature of weight management, most aspects can be addressed through a simple, traditional diet and a kickass exercise regime. Like most modern health afflictions, reverting to a primal-style menu, adding intelligent exercise and making a few individual tweaks will set you back on the dirt track.

Let’s summarise, seeing as i’m incapable of a coherent argument. Lists good, essays bad.

Negative-nelly problemos! (Factors influencing weight)

•  Dysbiosis → New research is emerging that links imbalances in gut flora with obesity. The theory goes that overweight people may have different strains of microorganisms that both extract extra energy from our food, and also secrete toxins that cause inflammation (see below) and predispose us to certain metabolic disorders. Read more here.

•  Leptin resistance → Leptin is a hormone made by fat cells that (in a neatly-package, grossly-oversimplified explanation) informs the brain of changes in energy balance (calories) and increases in fat mass. In a normal, healthy scenario, this would send the signal, ‘Hey! Your body’s too bootylicious for me, babe’ to the brain, informing your gaping jowls to shut up shop and your grubby hands to put down that last piece of paleo pie. Leptin should, in this way, regulate appetite and help us determine when enough is enough. Unfortunately, in the same way as people are becoming insulin resistant, they are also becoming insensitive to leptin. Ignoring a master hormone? You loco. How do we become leptin resistant anyway? Things such as systemic inflammation (the root of all bodily evil, so it would seem) and, uh, obesity (which came first? The love-handle or the scrambled egg?) are two standout factors. Address them and address the crux of the issue. There are also ‘leptin reset’ protocols which help you regain appetite perspective. They go roughly along the lines of “eating 50 grams of protein at breakfast everyday within 30 minutes of rising, eliminating all snacking especially past 7:30 PM, eating three meals a day, and limiting carb intake below 50 grams per day for about 6 to 8 weeks” – From Dr Jack Kruse. Google it.

• Inflammation → What the good charlotte does inflammation have to do with anything? According to Chris Kresser & Stephan Guyenet, proinflammatory cytokines can inhibit leptin signalling. Awesome! That tells us regular folk nothing. Basically, when your body is inflamed it starts to produce these aforementioned cytokines. Refined foods, sugar, improperly prepared grains all illicit this response. An imbalance in your omega 3:6 ratio will do the same, as will toxins from bad bacteria in the intestines, leaky gut and food intolerances.

• Environmental nasties → xenooestrogens (from plastic containers, drink bottles, household chemicals) can disrupt endocrine function and tox-up your body.

• Other annoying tidbits → epigenetics, gene mutations, breast feeding status, maternal birth weight, bacterial exposure during birth, the fact that EVIL MULTINATIONAL JUNK-FOOD-PEDDLERS DESIGN HYPERPALATABLE GOODIES WITH THE HELP OF TEAMS OF SCIENTISTS WHICH MAKE US SALIVATE AT THE VERY MENTION OF THEIR CATCHY, COLOURFUL NAMES! Food reward is a mammoth dilemma…too big to go into now (phattest post ever), but let’s just say that self-control is definitely not the issue when frankenfoods, manufactured to appeal to the hedonistic pleasure centres of your brain, are in the mix. Here is an amazing series if you want to know more. 

(YES these are Paleo; I wouldn’t tempt you with chocolate-coated naughtiness now would I?! Check out Food Lovers Primal Palate for more orgasmic goodies)

Like, woah. Can we just stick with calories in, calories out already?

After all that, I need to let you in on something. There is one lifestyle & diet philosophy that pretty much covers all these bases, with a few individual tweaks. Ahem.

Paleo. Hunter-gatherer. Primal. PaNu. An ancestral diet. Call it what you will; when done intelligently and implemented intuitively, it’s the bomb diggity for disease prevention, wellbeing & weight regulation. Here’s what you need:

1. Your own version of the ancestral diet – it could be raw-dairy included, dairy free, higher starchy-carb, low fruit, activated-nut-full or nut-free. Details, friends. Your call. Focusing on a variety of grass-fed, organic, slow-cooked, meats, organic veggies, some fruits, some nuts & seeds if tolerated (though, I don’t agree that a high PUFA diet is necessarily optimal – more on that later), cooking with heat-stable saturated fats, fermented foods, bone broths, raw dairy if you want, white rice if you want & eschewing sugar and modern agents of disease is where it’s at. This is a hugely anti-inflammatory diet. It’s satiating. It rebalances omega ratios. It’s nourishing to our gizzards. Once you heal leaky gut, allergic/autoimmune disorders and feed your friendlies (bacteria that is) you’re setting yourself up for a big, warm serve of dietary win. Check to the checkity check.
2. Au naturale cooking, eating & living – as championed by the paleo movement. Avoidance of damaging chemicals, plastics, excessive caffeine and alcohol and drugskies. This will negate much of that xenooestrogen bother, toxic liver congestion, hormonal dysregulation and physiological stress! Win two for team cave-non-gender-specific-person.
3. Sleep, sun, play & sexytime – ‘play’ includes exercise, but we’re lovin’ it. It’s stimulating, engaging, challenging. Mark Sisson espouses the formula ‘move heavy things a few times a week, do high intensity once or twice (sprints, cycling, whatever floats your makeshift raft) and move at a steady pace the rest of the time’ (spark up a competitive game of ultimate frisbee for extra points). High intensity interval training is one of the few exercises shown to actually stimulate the release of growth hormone and stoke the metabolic fires; efficient, effective. This kind of speedwork also helps increase your insulin sensitivity and is not pro-inflammatory, seeing as it’s a short, sharp, manageable stressor. Sounds pretty aiiight to me, and with all this rugged outdoor fun, you’ll be topping up your D, sleeping well (10pm to 6am if you please) and fostering better relationships. Game, set and match.