Broken Bowl? Let it Go.

Broken bowl? Let it go. I feel bad when I break things. Today, I broke a milk glass antique mixing bowl. It’s not the only mixing bowl I own. I should throw it in the trash without a second thought.

But I can’t – not because it was almost as wide at the bottom as the top and pleasant to use, and not exactly because of the many many apricot cakes I mixed in it when I was small. My association of this bowl with a kitchen long-ago turned into a music room is related to larger memories that took place in that kitchen.

We often make memories in the kitchen. Some are good, all covered in sauce, syrup, and dusted with sugar. Others produce broken glass as a by-product. Good or bad, some events must be processed before we can let them go.

Memories and their emotional aftermath can take time to work through. Sometimes the process moves slowly. Obviously, it makes no sense to hold onto a broken bowl for weeks, months, or years. And yet it can be tempting to clutter our homes with things that no longer serve a purpose.

Items that evoke strong memories may be the hardest to part with. But keeping misshapen, broken, crumbled stuff around can make it harder to let go of the attached emotions.

How can you make it easier to part with things?

Take the pressure off. If you try to muscle yourself into compliance, you may feel overwhelmed and cling even harder. Try placing objects in an appointed place out of sight and leave them for a few weeks or months. You don’t have to decide right this minute.

I use a space in the back of a closet to hold items that are difficult to part with. After a few months, I pull them out and decide whether to throw away, donate, or keep. I’ve been doing this for years and I can only think of two times that I kept something.

Take a photo. I’ve found I don’t always need to hold onto the actual item. What I’m looking for is the feeling I feel when I see it. A photo can generate the same feeling. When it’s time to part with a special possession, I snap a photo and put it in a folder labeled Memories on my computer.

Take your time. This year, I decided to get rid of one thing per day. At the end of the year, I will have gotten rid of at least 365 things. Some days I cover all seven things for a week. Other days, I simply remove a vase or blouse or pair of earrings.

Take it to someone else. If you have a friend or family member who collects Niloak pottery or Culver glassware and you have some you don’t need, gift it. I’ve been served drinks at parties in glasses I previously owned. It always makes me feel good that they’re being used.

Take a moment. When it comes to something broken beyond repair, it makes sense to remove it promptly. While you may not be able to fully process the attached feelings, taking a moment before giving it a toss is a way to honor your need to continue the process. Doing so can help you take the next step.

So, I’m going to throw away the bowl I broke this morning. And I’m going to think of it as a symbol of the broken memories from that kitchen. Then I’m going to let it go and walk away from the trash bin with a smile!

There are some things I’m better off without!

Seeking Safety

How much of our relationship to food is about seeking safety? I’d like to know the answer to this question. I also understand that the answer is variable and individual and therefore impossible to answer in an objective way. 

Since Abraham Maslow proposed the idea of a hierarchy of needs in the 1940s, we have generally had a picture of physiological needs as the basis of a pyramid. That means physiological needs are the priority. After that, comes the need for safety, then the need for love and belonging, etc.

But it’s really not that simple. We aren’t a perfect pyramid built one layer at a time. We need to feel safe or we may throw up any nourishment that’s available. We need love and belonging to feel safe so it’s impossible to meet our physiological or safety needs without incorporating that next layer of love and belonging. If this were not true, it would be the norm for babies to thrive whether or not they recieve love and attention.

Perhaps it would be more helpful to view ourselves as layer cakes. The layers support each other. Each is the same size. Each is equally important. When tasted together, the flavors enhance each other. 

A layer cake is a stable tower when the layers are securely held together. In a cake, we use frosting as the glue that both sweetens the tower and keeps the layers connected. In people, the frosting is attachment. 

Secure attachment looks like frosting applied with a steady hand. It has uniform thickness across the layer. The amount is perfectly matched to the thickness of the layers. Secure attachment feels safe. 

When our attachment style develops as avoidant, dismissive, ambivalent, anxious, or disorganized, we may not always feel safe in our relationships. This can affect any or everything in our lives and may manifest in our relationship to food.

Sometimes, we will need a full pantry to feel safe. Sometimes, the urge to eat or not eat will be about the feeling in our stomach. Sometimes, we need to feel soothed by the act of swallowing.  

Most often, overeating or binging and purging are characterized as attempts to fill a void. Again, that seems like an oversimplification. If a person to whom I felt anxiously attached withheld food from me during my developing years, I may feel a need to protect myself from starvation any time a similar feeling appears. That feeling may be triggered by an event that looks situationally different, but feels the same. 

If I eat during an emotional flashback (heightened sensation moment), I’m not really trying to regain attachment. My lower brain is signaling me to survive. I have to calm the lower brain before I can begin to consider repairing attachment. That means getting past the feeling and/or subconscious belief that I won’t survive. 

Once I am able to recognize what’s happening in the moment, I can explore the food and eating choices I make any time I experience this trigger. Without this recognition, the subconscious will continue to sabotage well-intended eating plans. 

We often feel guilt or shame when we fail to follow an eating plan. Understanding that your body may be seeking safety without your conscious knowledge can help alleviate guilt and give you a beginning point for exploring how this affects your relationship with food.

With insight and exploration, it’s possible to move the subconscious to the conscious. From there, all change is possible.