The Quiet Cost of Convenience

remembering food as medicine part 1

A decade ago, a handful of fellow bloggers and I participated in a course on food and culture through MIT. It was an eye-opening course that more deeply informed and gave voice to what B and I were doing here on our farmstead.

Have you ever walked through a fluorescent-lit grocery store and felt a bit like you are having an out-of-body experience? Aisle after aisle stacked floor to ceiling with endless choices of food that is pre-made, highly processed, and filled with a list of ingredients that you need a degree to understand. As this month’s theme is stirring, I thought maybe I would stir your thought process on a concerning paradox. We have never had more food available, and it’s never been less nourishing.

In the 20th century, beginning with WWII, we began to see the snowball effect of industrialization in our food. Processed foods like canned meats, melt-resistant chocolate, and powdered juice became a part of military kits. In the 1950’s and 1960’s, we began to see chemicals and the beginnings of genetic manipulation for crop growth, and the mechanization of factory farming. Nourishment began to take a back seat to shelf life, efficiency, and profit. What this led to was seasons of sameness with foods available in those fluorescently lit grocery stores, whether in season or not, and our increasingly fast-paced culture, which led to less time in the kitchen.

It is alarming that, as a result of how our food is produced, stripping it down one nutrient at a time, a reliance on processed foods, and a generalized lack of food sense, our children are now expected to have shorter life spans.

As we travel the wise woman road, we begin to reflect on the teachings of our ancestors. Food has not only been a part of survival, but the nutrients are medicine, and the process of making and eating food together is the glue that has held families and communities together. This does not mean that our ancestors had it easy; they worked hard, and feeding their families was only a part of a long day’s work. As we travel this road, it is time to reclaim our intuition and utilize the valuable knowledge that comes from it. Listening to our bodies and using our senses: taste, smell, satiety, and our energy after eating. Returning to ancestral wisdom restores trust in our body, supports healing without guilt, and empowers us.

What returning DOES NOT mean

We do not have to be perfect or grow all of our own food, and we do not need to reject modern life. Instead, we need to bring our attention to our food systems, research our history with curiosity, and have a willingness to slow down.

I invite you to try something this week. Choose one meal and eat it without distraction. Chew your food intentionally and notice the taste and texture. Then notice how your body feels when you are done, without judgment, just take a moment to check in with yourself and notice.

In this series, over the next several months, we will go in-depth into our relationship with food & listening to our bodies, seasonal nourishment, and ancestral kitchens.

Until next time,

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Hello friend! My name is Amy. I am so happy you have stopped by 🍃 If you are new here, a warm welcome to you! This space is where I am learning to walk the wise woman road by returning to my true self through seasonal living, reflective writing, nourishing food, intuition, and resilience. Rooted in the rhythms of the earth and my lived experience, these writings are an invitation to slow down, listen inward, and remember what nourishes us. If this resonates with you, I invite you to subscribe and walk the seasons alongside me.