by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Oct 24, 2021 | Anxiety, Beauty, Depression, Health, Medicine, Meditation, Mental Health, Mindfulness, mood, Nature, Nature Cure, Outdoors, Philosophy, Psychology, Self-care
“There’s a sunrise and a sunset every day and you can choose to be there or not.
“You can put yourself in the way of beauty.”
– Cheryl Strayed, Wild
Yellow and orange hues stimulate melatonin production, aiding sleep.
Melatonin is not just our sleep hormone, it’s an antioxidant and has been studied for its positive mood, hormonal, immune, anti-cancer, and digestive system effects.
Our bodies have adjusted to respond to the light from 3 billion sunsets.
While we can take melatonin in supplement form, use blue light blocking glasses, or use red hued light filters and, while tech can certainly help us live more healthfully, it’s important to remember that the best bio-hack is simply to remember your heritage and put yourself back in nature’s way.
The best tech of all is in the natural rhythms of the planet and encoded in your beautiful DNA.
Optimal health is about re-wilding. Optimal health is about remembering who you are and coming back to your true nature.
You have the code within in you to live your best, healthiest life. I believe healing is about tapping into that code, supporting our nature, and allowing the light of our optimal health template to shine through.
The proximity to water can improve focus, creativity, health and professional success according to marine biologist and surfer Wallace J. Nichols in his book, Blue Mind.
A “blue mind” describes a neurological state of of calm centredness.
Being around water heightens involuntary attention, where external stimuli capture our attention, generating a mind that is open, and expansive, and neurochemicals like dopamine and serotonin are released.
He says, “This is flow state, where we lose track of time, nothing else seems to matter, and we truly seem alive and at our best”.
Contrast a blue mind to a red mind, where neurons release stress chemicals like norepinephrine, cortisol in response to stress, anxiety and fear.
From the book Mindfulness and Surfing:
“Surfing is not just about riding a wave, but immersion in nature: the aching silence of a calm sea is punctuated by a cluster of blue lines. The point is to spend a little more time looking and listening than doing.
“Maybe this is not just about being but about what the philosopher Heidegger called “becoming”–a being in time, an unfolding sense of what he further called ‘dwelling’.
“When we dwell, we inhabit.”
Jungian Psychoanalyst, Frances Weller posed the question, “What calls you so fully into the world other than beauty?”
In other words, “Without beauty what is it that attracts us into life?”
Our human affinity for beauty is perhaps the greatest pull of all into aliveness. And yet so many of us feel purposeless, or that life is meaningless. In our world we are suffering from a “Meaning Crisis”, which perhaps partially explains the epidemic of mental health issues that plague us.
We spend so much time bogged down in the business of being alive: bills, chores, work–“dotting Ts and crossing Is” as I like say 😂
This is part of the reason why 1/6th of my 6-week Mental Health Foundations program (Good Mood Foundations) involves getting into nature. For there is nothing more beautiful than the gorgeous imperfection of the natural world.
We are called by it. There are myriad scientific studies on the power of “Forest Bathing” for de-stressing, for mental health, for supporting our mood, hormonal health, immune systems, social relationships, and so on.
And yet so often when we say words like “beauty” we call on images of “perfection”: symmetrical youthful faces, bodies with zero fat on them, etc.
We are focused on the missing parts instead of how the effect of nature’s imperfect beauty has on us–and thus we rob ourselves of the pleasure of being in the presence of beauty.
For what is pleasure but beauty personified? And what is depression other than a lack of deep, embodied soulful pleasure?
I find being in nature brings me closer, not so much to beauty as a concept of commercial idealism, but a sense of pleasure. It pulls me into my body.
I feel my feet on the ground, my breath timing my steps, the birdsong and wind in my ears, and I feel calmed, and centred, called into the experience of being fully alive.
If you’re struggling to find meaning, practice showing up to your sunsets for a few evenings in a row.
Put yourself in the way of beauty.
When the sunsets show up everyday, will you show up too?
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Oct 10, 2021 | Alcohol, Anxiety, Balance, Book Review, Depression, Emotional Wellness, Emotions, Happiness, Healing Stories, Health, Meditation, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Psychedelics, Psychology, Self-care
It was a crappy week and I was chatting with a friend online. He said something that triggered me… it just hit some sort of nerve. I backed away from my computer, feeling heavy. I went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water and collapsed, elbows on the counter, head in my hands, my body shaking and wracking with deep, guttural sobs.
A few seconds later, I’m not sure how long exactly, I stood up. Tears and snot streaming down my face, I wiped them off with a tissue. I felt lighter, clearer. I was still heavy and sad, but there was a part of me that had opened. I went back to my computer and relayed some of this to my friend, “what you said triggered me, but it’s ok, it just hit a personal nerve. I’m ok now though, I know you didn’t mean any harm”. I typed to him.
Joan Rosenberg, PhD in her book 90 Seconds to a Life You Love, would have said that, in that moment, I had been open to feeling the moment-to-moment experience of my emotions and bodily sensations. I felt the waves of emotions run through my body, and let them flow for a total of up to 90 seconds. And, in so welcoming that experience and allowing it to happen rather than blocking it, fighting it, projecting it (onto my friend or others), I was able to release it and let it go.
For many of us, avoidance is our number one strategy when it comes to our emotions. We don’t like to feel uncomfortable. We don’t like unpleasant sensations, thoughts and feelings and, most of all, we don’t like feeling out of control. Emotions can be painful. In order to avoid these unpleasant experiences, we distract ourselves. We try to numb our bodies and minds to prevent these waves of emotion and bodily sensation from welling up inside of us. We cut ourselves off.
The problem, however is that we can’t just cut off one half of our emotional experience. When we cut off from the negative emotions, we dampen the positive ones as well.
This can result in something that Dr. Rosenberg titles, “soulful depression”, the result of being disconnected from your own personal experience, which includes your thoughts, emotions and body sensations.
Soulful depression is characterized by an internal numbness, or a feeling of emptiness. Over time it can transform into isolation, alienation and hopelessness–perhaps true depression.
Anxiety in many ways is a result of cutting ourselves off from emotional experience as well. It is a coping mechanism: a way that we distract ourselves from the unpleasant emotions we try to disconnect from.
When we worry or feel anxious our experience is often very mental. We might articulate that we are worried about a specific outcome. However, it’s not so much the outcome we are worried about but a fear and desire to avoid the unpleasant emotions that might result from the undesired outcome–the thing we are worrying about. In a sense, anxiety is a way that we distract from the experience of our emotions, and transmute them into more superficial thoughts or worries.
When you are feeling anxious, what are you really feeling?
Dr. Rosenberg writes that there are eight unpleasant feelings:
- sadness
- shame
- helplessness
- anger
- embarrassment
- disappointment
- frustration
- vulnerability
Often when we are feeling anxious we are actually feeling vulnerable, which is an awareness that we can get hurt (and often requires a willingness to put ourselves out there, despite this very real possibility).
When we are able to stay open to, identify and allow these emotions to come through us, Dr. Rosenberg assures us that we will be able to develop confidence, resilience, and a feeling of emotional strength. We will be more likely to speak to our truth, combat procrastination, and bypass negative self-talk.
She writes, “Your sense of feeling capable in the world is directly tied to your ability to experience and move through the eight difficult feelings”.
Like surfing a big wave, when we ride the waves of the eight difficult emotions we realize that we can handle anything, as the rivers of life are more able to flow through us and we feel more present to our experience: both negative and positive.
One of the important skills involved in “riding the waves” of difficult feelings is to learn to tolerate the body sensations that they produce. For many people, these sensations will feel very intense–especially if you haven’t practice turning towards them, but the important thing to remember is that they will eventually subside, in the majority of cases in under 90 seconds.
Therefore, the key is to stay open to the flow of the energy from these emotions and body sensations, breathe through them and watch them crescendo and dissipate.
This idea reminds me of the poem by Rumi, The Guest House:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
One of the reasons I was so drawn to Dr. Rosenberg’s book is this idea of the emotional waves lasting no more than 90 seconds. We are so daunted by these waves because they require our surrender. It is very difficult however, if you suffer from anxiety to let go of control. To gives these emotional waves a timeframe can help us stick it out. 90 seconds is the length of a short song! We can tolerate almost anything for 90 seconds. I found this knowledge provided me with a sense of freedom.
The 90 seconds thing comes from Dr. Jill Bolt Taylor who wrote the famous book My Stroke of Insight (watch her amazing Ted Talk by the same name). When an emotion is triggered, she states, chemicals from the brain are released into the bloodstream and surge through the body, causing body sensations.
Much like a wave washing through us, the initial sensation is a rush of the chemicals that flood our tissues, followed by a flush as they leave. The rush can occur as blushing, heat, heaviness, tingling, is over within 90 seconds after which the chemicals have completely been flushed out of the bloodstream.
Dr. Rosenberg created a method she calls the “Rosenberg Reset”, which involves three steps:
- Stay aware of your moment-to-moment experience. Fully feel your feelings, thoughts, bodily sensations. Choose to be aware of and not avoid your experience.
- Experience and move through the eight difficult feelings when they occur. These are: sadness, shame, helplessness, anger, embarrassment, disappointment, frustration, vulnerability.
- Ride one or more 90 second waves of bodily sensations that these emotions produce.
Many therapeutic techniques such as mindfulness, Dialectical Behaviour Therapy, somatic therapy, and so on utilize these principles. When we expand our window of tolerance and remain open to our physical and emotional experience we allow energy to move through us more gracefully. We move through our stuckness.
Oftentimes though, we can get stuck underwater, or hung up on the crest of a wave. Rumination and high levels of cortisol, our stress hormone can prolong the waves of unpleasant emotion. We may be more susceptible to this if we have a narrow window of tolerance due to trauma.
However, many of us can get stuck in the mind, and when we ruminate on an emotionally triggering memory over and over again, perhaps in an effort to solve it or to make sense of it, we continue to activate the chemicals in our body that produce the emotional sensation.
Therefore, it’s the mind that can keep us stuck, not the emotions themselves. Harsh self-criticism can also cause feelings to linger.
I have found that stories and memories, grief, terror and rage can become stuck in our bodies. Books like The Body Keeps the Score speak to this–when we block the waves, or when the waves are too big we can build up walls around them. We compartmentalize them, we shut them away and these little 90 second waves start to build up, creating energetic and emotional blockages.
In Vipassana they were referred to as sankharas, heaps of clinging from mental activity and formations that eventually solidify and get lodged in the physical body, but can be transformed and healed.
Perhaps this is why a lot of trauma work involves large emotional purges. Breathwork, plant medicines such as Ayahuasca, and other energetic healing modalities often encourage a type of purging to clear this “sludge” that tends to accumulate in our bodies.
My friend was commenting on the idea that her daughter, about two years old, rarely gets sick. “She’ll have random vomiting spells,” my friend remarked, “and then, when she’s finished, she recovers and plays again”.
“It reminds me of a mini Ayahuasca ceremony”, I remarked, jokingly, “maybe babies are always in some sort of Ayahuasca ceremony.”
This ability to cry, to purge, to excrete from the body is likely key to emotional healing. I was listening to a guest on the Aubrey Marcus podcast, Blu, describe this: when a story gets stuck in a person it often requires love and a permission to move it, so that it may be purged and released.
Fevers, food poisoning, deep fitful spells of sobbing may all be important for clearing up the backlog of old emotional baggage and sludge so that we can free up our bodies to ride these 90 second emotional waves in our moment-to-moment experience.
Grief is one of these primary sources of sludge in my opinion. Perhaps because we live in a culture that doesn’t quite know how to handle grief–that time-stamps it, limits it, compartmentalizes it, commercializes it, and medicates it–many of us suffer from an accumulation of suppressed grief sankharas that has become lodged in our bodies.
Frances Weller puts it this way,
“Depression isn’t depression, it’s oppression–the accumulated weight of decades of untouched losses that have turned into sediment, an oppressive weight on the soul. Processing loss is how the majority of therapies work, by touching sorrow upon sorry that was never honoured or given it’s rightful attention.”
Like a suppressed bowel movement, feelings can be covered up, distracted from. However, when we start to turn our attention to them we might find ourselves running to the nearest restroom. Perhaps in these moments it’s important to get in touch with someone to work with, a shaman of sorts, or a spiritual doula, someone who can help you process these large surges of energy that your body is asking you to purge.
However, it is possible to set our dial to physiological neutral to, with courage turn towards our experience, our emotions and body sensations. And to know that we can surf them, and even if we wipe out from time to time, we might end up coming out the other side, kicking out, as Rumi says, “laughing”.
The only way out is through.
As Jon Kabat Zinn says, “you can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf”.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Sep 23, 2021 | Alcohol, Alignment, Anxiety, Autoimmune, Balance, Chronic pain, Community, Depression, Detoxification, Diet, Digestion, Education, Elimination Diet, Emotional Wellness, Emotions, Food, Food Sensitivities, Gluten Free, Health, Inflammation, Medicine, Meditation, Mental Health, metabolic health, Microbiome, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, mood, Nature, Nature Cure, Nutrition, Uncategorized
It’s day one of my period and I’ve been healing a broken foot for 6 weeks. The weather is overcast, thick, humid and rainy.
My body feels thick and heavy. Clothing leaves an imprint on my skin–socks leave deep indentations in my ankles. My face and foot is swollen. My tongue feels heavy. My mind feels dull, achey, and foggy. It’s hard to put coherent words together.
I feel cloudy and sleepy. Small frustrations magnify. It’s hard to maintain perspective.
My muscles ache. My joints throb slightly. They feel stiffer and creakier.
This feeling is transient. The first few days of the menstrual cycle are characterized by an increase in prostaglandins that stimulate menstrual flow and so many women experience an aggravation of inflammatory symptoms like depression, arthritis, or autoimmune conditions around this time. You might get. a cold sore outbreak, or a migraine headache around this time of month. The phenomenon can be exaggerated with heavy, humid weather, and chronic inflammation–such as the prolonged healing process of mending a broken bone.
Inflammation.
It’s our body’s beautiful healing response, bringing water, nutrients, and immune cells to an area of injury or attack. The area involved swells, heats up, becomes red, and might radiate pain. And then, within a matter of days, weeks, or months, the pathogen is neutralized, the wound heals and the inflammatory process turns off, like a switch.
However, inflammation can be low-grade and chronic. Many chronic health conditions such as diabetes, arthritis, PMS or PMDD, depression, anxiety, migraines, even bowel and digestive issues, have an inflammatory component.
In the quest to manage chronic inflammation, people often explore various avenues, including dietary supplements. One such natural option gaining attention is OrganicCBDNugs. Derived from the hemp plant, CBD, or cannabidiol, is believed to possess anti-inflammatory properties, potentially offering relief to those struggling with conditions like arthritis, anxiety, or migraines.
This organic supplement, with its purported ability to interact with the body’s endocannabinoid system, might provide a holistic approach to tackling inflammation-related issues. As we navigate the complexities of our bodies and the ebb and flow of inflammation, exploring natural remedies like Organic CBD could be a step toward finding equilibrium and promoting overall well-being.
As I telly my patients. Inflammation is “everything that makes you feel bad”. Therefore anti-inflammatory practices make you feel good.
Many of us don’t realize how good we can feel because low-grade inflammation is our norm.
We just know that things could be better: we could feel more energy, more lightness of being and body, more uplifted, optimistic mood, clearer thinking and cognitive functioning, better focus, less stiffness and less swelling.
Obesity and weight gain are likely inflammatory processes. Insulin resistance and metabolic syndrome are inflammatory in nature. It’s hard to distinguish between chronic swelling and water retention due to underlying low-grade chronic inflammation and actual fat gain, and the two can be closely intertwined.
It’s unfortunate then, that weight loss is often prescribed as a treatment plan for things like hormonal imbalances, or other conditions caused by metabolic imbalance. Not only has the individual probably already made several attempts to lose weight, the unwanted weight gain is most likely a symptom, rather than a cause, of their chronic health complaint. (Learn how to get to the root of this with my course You Weigh Less on the Moon).
Both the main complaint (the migraines, the PMS, the endometriosis, the depression, the arthritis, etc.) and the weight gain, are likely due to an inflammatory process occurring in the body.
To simply try to cut calories, or eat less, or exercise more (which can be helpful for inflammation or aggravate it, depending on the level of stress someone is under), can only exacerbate the process by creating more stress and inflammation and do nothing to relieve the root cause of the issues at hand.
Even anti-inflammatory over the counter medications like Advil, prescription ones like naproxen, or natural supplements like turmeric (curcumin) have limiting effects. They work wonderfully if the inflammation is self-limiting: a day or two of terrible period cramps, or a migraine headache. However, they do little to resolve chronic low-grade inflammation. If anything they only succeed at temporarily suppressing it only to have it come back with a vengeance.
The issue then, is to uncover the root of the inflammation, and if the specific root can’t be found (like the piece of glass in your foot causing foot pain), then applying a general anti-inflammatory lifestyle is key.
The first place to start is with the gut and nutrition.
Nutrition is at once a complex, confusing, contradictory science and a very simple endeavour. Nutrition was the simplest thing for hundreds of thousands of years: we simply ate what tasted good. We ate meat, fish and all the parts of animals. We ate ripe fruit and vegetables and other plant matter that could be broken down with minimal processing.
That’s it.
We didn’t eat red dye #3, and artificial sweeteners, and heavily modified grains sprayed with glyphosate, and heavily processed flours, and seed oils that require several steps of solvent extraction. We didn’t eat modified corn products, or high fructose corn syrup, or carbonated drinks that are artificially coloured and taste like chemicals.
We knew our food—we knew it intimately because it was grown, raised, or hunted by us or someone we knew—and we knew where it came from.
Now we have no clue. And this onslaught of random food stuffs can wreck havoc on our systems over time. Our bodies are resilient and you probably know someone who apparently thrives on a diet full of random edible food-like products, who’s never touched a vegetable and eats waffles for lunch.
However, our capacity to heal and live without optimal nutrition, regular meals that nourish us and heal us rather than impose another adversity to overcome, can diminish when we start adding in environmental chemicals and toxins, mental and emotional stress, a lack of sleep, and invasion of blue light at all hours of the day, bodies that are prevented from experiencing their full range of motion, and so on.
And so to reduce inflammation, we have to start living more naturally. We need to reduce the inflammation in our environments. We need to put ourselves against a natural backdrop–go for a soothing walk in nature at least once a week.
We need to eat natural foods. Eat meats, natural sustainably raised and regeneratively farmed animal products, fruits and vegetables. Cook your own grains and legumes (i.e.: process your food yourself). Avoid random ingredients (take a look at your oat and almond milk–what’s in the ingredients list? Can you pronounce all the ingredients in those foods? Can you guess what plant or animal each of those ingredients came from? Have you ever seen a carageenan tree?).
Moving to a more natural diet can be hard. Sometimes results are felt immediately. Sometimes our partners notice a change in us before we notice in ourselves (“Hon, every time you have gluten and sugar, don’t you notice you’re snappier the next day, or are more likely to have a meltdown?”).
It often takes making a plan–grocery shopping, making a list of foods you’re going to eat and maybe foods you’re not going to eat, coming up with some recipes, developing a few systems for rushed nights and take-out and snacks–and patience.
Often we don’t feel better right away–it takes inflammation a while to resolve and it takes the gut time to heal. I notice that a lot of my patients are addicted to certain chemicals or ingredients in processed foods and, particularly if they’re suffering from the pain of gut inflammation, it can tempting to go back to the chemicals before that helped numb the pain and delivered the dopamine hit of pleasure that comes from dealing with an addiction. It might help to remember your why. Stick it on the fridge beside your smoothie recipe.
We need to sleep, and experience darkness. If you can’t get your bedroom 100%-can’t see you hand in front of your face-dark, then use an eye mask when sleeping. Give your body enough time for sleep. Less than 7 hours isn’t enough.
We need to move in all sorts of ways. Dance. Walk. Swim. Move in 3D. Do yoga to experience the full range of motion of your joints. Practice a sport that requires your body and mind, that challenges your skills and coordination. Learn balance both in your body and in your mind.
We need to manage our emotional life. Feeling our emotions, paying attention to the body sensations that arise in our bodies—what does hunger feel like? What does the need for a bowel movement feel like? How does thirst arise in your body? Can you recognize those feelings? What about your emotions? What sensations does anger produce? Can you feel anxiety building? What do you do with these emotions once they arise? Are you afraid of them? Do you try to push them back down? Do you let them arise and “meet them at the door laughing” as Rumi says in his poem The Guest House?
Journalling, meditation, mindfulness, hypnosis, breath-work, art, therapy, etc. can all be helpful tools for understanding the emotional life and understanding the role chronic stress (and how it arises, builds, and falls in the body) and toxic thoughts play in perpetuating inflammation.
Detox. No, I don’t mean go on some weird cleanse or drinks teas that keep you on the toilet all day. What I mean is: remove the gunk and clutter from your physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional plumbing. This might look like taking a tech break. Or going off into the woods for a weekend. Eating animals and plants for a couple of months, cutting out alcohol, or coffee or processed foods for a time.
It might involve cleaning your house with vinegar and detergents that are mostly natural ingredients, dumping the fragrances from your cosmetics and cleaning products, storing food in steel and glass, rather than plastic. It might mean a beach clean-up. Or a purging of your closet–sometimes cleaning up the chaos in our living environments is the needed thing for reducing inflammation. It’s likely why Marie Kondo-ing and the Minimalist Movement gained so much popularity–our stuff can add extra gunk to our mental, emotional, and spiritual lives.
Detoxing isn’t just a trendy buzzword; it’s about fostering clarity and wellness in every aspect of our lives, including our living spaces. A clean, organized home can significantly contribute to a healthier mindset and emotional balance. That’s where Clean 4 You comes in, offering a fresh perspective on home cleaning that goes beyond mere tidiness.
They understand that clutter and grime can weigh heavily on our mental and emotional states, which is why they provide services tailored to create an environment that supports your detox journey. By enlisting the help of professionals, you can focus on nurturing yourself while they take care of transforming your space into a sanctuary.
If you’re seeking assistance specifically designed for individuals with unique needs, the NDIS Cleaner Perth service from Clean 4 You is here to help. This dedicated team is trained to cater to the requirements of those on the National Disability Insurance Scheme, ensuring that every client receives the support they need for a clean and safe living environment.
With a commitment to using eco-friendly products and methods, Clean 4 You allows you to detox your home in a way that aligns with your values, providing peace of mind as you embrace a healthier lifestyle. With their expertise, you can achieve a pristine space that not only looks good but feels good, allowing you to focus on your personal wellness journey.
Finally, connect with your community. Loneliness is inflammatory. And this past year and a half have been very difficult, particularly for those of you who live alone, who are in transition, who aren’t in the place you’d like to be, or with the person or people you’d like to be–your soul family.
It takes work to find a soul family. I think the first steps are to connect and attune to oneself, to truly understand who you are and move toward that and in that way people can slowly trickle in.
We often need to take care of ourselves first, thereby establishing the boundaries and self-awareness needed to call in the people who will respect and inspire us the most. It’s about self-worth. How do you treat yourself as someone worthy of love and belonging?
Perhaps it first comes with removing the sources of inflammation from our lives, so we can address the deeper layers of our feelings and body sensations and relieve the foggy heaviness and depression and toxic thoughts that might keep us feeling stuck.
Once we clear up our minds and bodies, and cool the fires of inflammation, we start to see better—the fog lifts. We start to think more clearly. We know who we are. Our cravings subside. We can begin to process our shame, anger and sadness.
We start to crave nourishing things: the walk in nature, the quiet afternoon writing poetry, the phone call with a friend, the stewed apples with cinnamon (real sweetness). We free up our dopamine receptors for wholesome endeavours. We start to move in the direction of our own authenticity. I think this process naturally attracts people to us. And naturally attracts us to the people who have the capacity to love and accept us the way we deserve.
Once we start to build community, especially an anti-inflammatory community—you know, a non-toxic, nourishing, wholesome group of people who make your soul sing, the path becomes easier.
You see, when you are surrounded by people who live life the way you do–with a respect for nature, of which our bodies are apart–who prioritize sleep, natural nutrition, mental health, movement, emotional expression, and self-exploration, it becomes more natural to do these things. It no longer becomes a program or a plan, or a process you’re in. It becomes a way of life–why would anyone do it any other way?
The best way to overcome the toxicity of a sick society is to create a parallel one.
When you’re surrounded by people who share your values. You no longer need to spend as much energy fighting cravings, going against the grain, or succumbing to self-sabotage, feeling isolated if your stray from the herb and eat vegetables and go to sleep early.
You are part of a culture now. A culture in which caring for yourself and living according to your nature is, well… normal and natural.
There’s nothing to push against or detox from. You can simply rest in healing, because healing is the most natural thing there is.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Sep 12, 2021 | Asian Medicine, Depression, Detoxification, Diet, Digestion, Food, Food Sensitivities, Gluten Free, Gut Microbiome, Happiness, Health, Medicine, Meditation, Mental Health, metabolic health, Mindfulness, mood, Nature, Nature Cure, Nutrition
Whenever I sit with a new patient for an initial intake, I ask about cravings.
From my many conversations about food, appetite and cravings, the most common responses are cravings for salt, or sugar, with many people falling on one end of the preference than the other: “I’m a salt craver” or “I’ve got a sweet tooth”.
However, cravings are so much more than that.
I believe that they are a beautifully intricate process, in which our body is trying to speak to us about what it needs.
Our bodies have developed taste receptors to detect quality nutrients from the environment. While these days sugar is abundant wherever you turn, during our hunter-gatherer times, it was a relatively scarce and highly sought after taste–the taste of ripe fruit, rich with nutrients, the taste of quality calories from carbohydrates, which may have been scarce in times of food shortage or famine.
Salt or “savoury” or umami cravings, often represent a need for more protein. Unfortunately, many of my patients who crave salt (and often calories) find themselves the bottom of a bag of chips, rather than grilling up a chicken breast.
Our modern environment doesn’t necessarily set us up to adequately translate and respond properly to certain cravings. Salted chips were probably not a thing in a natural environment and the only way to satisfy a salt and savoury craving would have been through hunting, consuming meat, or eggs and poultry.
When I was travelling in Colombia I was obsessed with broccoli–it was like I couldn’t get enough of it.
The same thing happened on a month-long trip to Brazil in 2019. Broccoli is rich in vitamin C, sulphur, and certain amino acids. It’s also a decent source of calcium. I’m not sure what nutrient I may have been lacking on my travels, but it’s possible that those cravings meant something for my body. And so I honoured them–I sought out broccoli like it was a magic elixir of health and ate as much of it as I could.
After developing significant iron deficiency after spending a few years as a vegetarian, I became suddenly attracted by the smell of roasting chicken from a local Korean restaurant I was passing by while walking the streets of Toronto.
The wafting smell of roasting poultry was majestic and impossible to ignore. It didn’t smell like sin, or temptation–my body betraying my moral sensibilities or whatever else we often accuse our cravings of—it smelt… like health.
There was no doubt in my mind as the delicious fumes touched my nostrils that I needed to honour my body and start eating meat again. I did and my health and nutrient status has never been better.
Patients will report craving carbs and chocolate the week before their period. The eb and flow of estrogen can affect serotonin levels. A large dose of carbs allows tryptophan, the amino acid that forms the backbone of serotonin, to freely enter the brain. This explains the effect “comfort foods” like starchy warm bread and pasta have on us, creating that warm, after-Thanksgiving dinner glow.
Chocolate is rich in magnesium, a nutrient in which many of us are deficient, that is in higher demand throughout the luteal phase of our cycle, or our premenstrual week.
Cravings are not just nagging, annoying vices, thrust in the path to greater health and iron discipline. They’re complex, intuitive and beautiful. They may be important landmarks on the path to true health and wellness.
Disciplines like Intuitive Eating and Mindful Eating have based themselves on the idea that our bodies hold intuitive wisdom and our tastes, cravings and appetites may be essential for guiding us on a road to health. Through removing restriction and paying more attention to the experience of food, we may be better guided to choose what foods are right for us.
The book The Dorito Effect outlines how our taste cues have been hijacked by Big Food. Like having a sham translator, processed foods stand between essential nutrients and the signals our bodies use to guide us to them. A craving for sweet that might have led you to ripe fruit, now leads you to a bag of nutrient-devoid candy that actually robs you of magnesium, and other nutrients in order to process the chemicals. A craving for salt and umami, or hunger for calories leads you to polish off a bag of chips, which are protein-devoid and laden with inflammatory fats, and only trigger more cravings, and shame.
It’s no wonder that we don’t trust our cravings– we live in a world that exploits them at every turn.
Clara Davis in 1939 was curious about the instintual nature of human cravings and devised a study that was published in the Canadian Medical Assoication Journal (CMAJ). The study was called Self-Selection of Diets by Young Children.
Clara gathered together 15 orphaned infants between 6 to 11 months of age who were weaning from breast-feeding and ready to receive solid food for the first time. These infants, before the study had never tried solid food or supplements. They were studied ongoing for a period of 6 years, with the main study process was conducted over a period of months.
The babies were sat at a table with a selection of simple, whole foods–33 to be exact. The foods contained no added sugars or salt. They were minimally cooked. Not all 33 were presented to each baby at each meal, however the babies were offered an opportunity to try everything.
The foods they were offered were water, sweet milk, sour (lactic) milk, sea salt, apples, bananas, orange juice, pineapple, peaches, tomatoes, beets, carrots, peas, turnips, cauliflower, cabbage, spinach, potato, lettuce, oatmeal, wheat, corn meal, barley, Ry-krisp (a kind of cereal), beef, lamb, bone marrow, bone jelly, chicken, sweetbreads, brains, liver, kidneys, eggs, and fish (haddock).
The nurses who were involved in running the study were instructed to sit in front of the infants with a spoon and wait for them to point at foods that they wanted. The nurses were not to comment on the choices or foods in any way, but wordlessly comply with the infants’ wishes and offer them a spoonful of the chosen foodstuff.
Throughout the study Davis noted that all the infants had hearty appetites and enjoyed eating.
At first, the babies showed no instinct for food choices, selecting things at random, and exploring the various foods presented to them. All of them tried everything at least once (two babies never tried lettuce and one never explored spinach). The most variety of food choices occurred during the first two weeks of the study when they were presumably in their experimentation phase.
Their tastes also changed from time to time, perhaps reflecting some hidden, internal mechanism, growth spurt or nutritional need. Sometimes a child would have orange juice and liver for breakfast (liver is a source of iron, and vitamin C from the orange juice aids in its absorption), and dinner could be something like eggs, bananas, and milk.
Many infants began the study in a state of malnourishment. Four were underweight and five suffered from Rickets a condition caused by extremely low vitamin D. One of the babies with severe Rickets was offered cod liver oil in addition to the other food options. Cod liver oil is a rich source of vitamin D.
The infant selected cod liver oil often for a while, after which his vitamin D, phosphorus and calcium blood levels all returned to normal range, and x-rays showed that his Ricket’s healed.
It is often thought by parents that children, if left to their own devices will eat themselves nutrient-deficient. While that may be true in todays’ landscape of processed frankenfoods, the infants in Davis’ study consumed a diet that was balanced and high in variety. They got 17% of their calories from protein, 35% from fat and 48% from carbohydrates and intake depended on their activity levels.
During the 6 years in which the infants’ eating habits were under observation, they rarely suffered from health issues. They had no digestive issues, like constipation. If they came down with a cold it would last no more than 3 days before they were fully recovered.
In the 6 years, they became ill with a fever only once, an outbreak that affected all of the infants in the orphanage. The researchers noticed their appetites change in response to the illness.
During the initial stages of the fever, they had lower appetites. And, once the fevers began to resolve, their appetites came back with a vengeance. They ate voraciously, and it was interesting that most of them showed an increased preference for raw carrots, beef and beets–which may indicate a need for vitamin A, iron and protein, which are needed for immune system function and recovery.
The habits of the infants to crave and select medicinal foods during times of fever and nutrient deficiency is such compelling evidence of Clara Davis’ craving wisdom hypothesis—were their bodies telling them what they needed to heal?
The self-selected, whole foods diets seems to have a positive impact on the mood and behaviours of the babies, all of whom were living full-time at the orphanage.
A psychiatrist, Dr. Joseph Brennemann wrote an article on them entitled “Psychologic Aspects of Nutrition” in the Journal of Pediatrics on their mood, behaviour and affect, “I saw them on a number of occasions and they were the finest group of specimens from the physical and behaviour standpoint that I have even seen in children of that age.”
In our world we often try to mentalize our food choices: going vegan or low-fat, counting calories, or reducing carbs. We time our eating windows, fast, or try to exert discipline and will over our bodies’ inherent desires.
So often my patients need to be coached through food eliminations, or given meal plans and templates. The art of listening to the body: properly identifying hunger, thirst, fatigue, inflammation, and even emotions like boredom, anxiety, sadness, anger, and hurt, can be a long process.
And yet, I wonder if we clear our palates and offer them a variety of whole, unprocessed, fresh foods, if our bodies will settle into their own grooves–perhaps our health will optimize, our bodies will be able to more readily communicate what they need, our taste receptors and cravings will adjust, and our cravings and appetite will serve the purpose they were meant to–to tell us what we need more of and what need less of or not at all.
I wonder if we listen, what our bodies will tell us.
I wonder if we let them, if our bodies will exhibit the pure instinctual wisdom of nature and the quest for harmony and homeostasis that lies at the heart of our natural world.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Sep 11, 2021 | Anxiety, Art, Depression, Emotional Wellness, Emotions, Exercise, Fitness, Happiness, Health, Inflammation, Letting Go, Medicine, Meditation, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Naturopathic Philosophy, Psychology, Self-care
About a month ago I fractured my right 5th metatarsal (an avulsion fracture, aka “The Dancer’s Fracture” or a “Pseudo-Jones Fracture”).
As soon as I laid eyes on the x-ray and the ER doctor declared, “Ms. Marcheggiani,” (actually, it’s doctor, but ok) “you broke your foot!” things changed.
I have never broken anything before, but if you have you know what it’s like. In a matter of seconds I couldn’t drive. I could barely put weight on it. I was given an Aircast boot to hobble around in, and told to ice and use anti-inflammatories sparingly. My activities: surfing, skateboarding, yoga, even my daily walks, came to a startling halt.
I spent the first few days on the couch, my foot alternating between being elevated in the boot and immersed in an ice bath. I took a tincture with herbs like Solomon’s Seal, mullein, comfrey, and boneset to help heal the bone faster. I was adding about 6 tbs of collagen to oats in the morning. I was taking a bone supplement with microcrystalline hydroxyapatite, pellets of homeopathic symphytum, zinc, and vitamin D.
We call this “treatment stacking”: throwing everything but the kitchen sink at something to give the body as many resources as possible that it may use to heal.
My brother’s wedding came and went. I was the emcee, and the best man. I bedazzled my boot and hobbled around during set-up, photos, presentations, and even tried shaking and shimmying, one-legged on the dance floor. The next few days I sat on the couch with my leg up.
I watched the Olympics and skateboarding videos. I read The Master and the Margarita and Infinite Jest. I got back into painting and created some pen drawings, trying to keep my mind busy.
I slept long hours–an amount that I would have previously assumed to be incapable. The sleep felt necessary and healing. I was taking melatonin to deepen it further.
I closed down social media apps on my phone to deal with the immense FOMO and stop mindlessly scrolling. I journaled instead, turning my focus from the outside world to my inner one.
It was a painful process, and not necessarily physically.
I was confined to my immediate surroundings–not able to walk far or drive. I was at the mercy of friends and family to help me grocery shop. The last year and a half has made many of us grow accustomed to social isolation and a lot of my social routines from years prior had fallen by the wayside.
My world, like the worlds of many, had gotten smaller over the last 18 months. With a broken foot, my world shrunk even further.
The loneliness was excruciating.
It would come in waves.
One moment I would relish the time spent idle and unproductive. The next I would be left stranded by my dopamine receptors, aimless, sobbing, grieving something… anything… from my previous life. And perhaps not just the life I had enjoyed pre-broken foot, but maybe a life before society had “broken”, or even before my heart had.
I thought I would be more mentally productive and buckle down on work projects but it became painfully obvious that my mental health and general productivity are tightly linked to my activity levels. And so I spent a lot of the weeks letting my bone heal in a state of waiting energy.
My best friend left me a voicemail that said, “Yes… you’re in that waiting energy. But, you know, something will come out of it. Don’t be hard on yourself. Try to enjoy things… watch George Carlin…”
During the moments where I feel completely useless and unproductive, waiting for life to begin, I was reminded of this quote by Cheryl Strayed. This quote speaks to me through the blurry, grey haze of boredom and the existential urgency of wasting time.
It says,
“The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.”
These things are your becoming.
Something will come out of it.
When I did a 10-Day Vipassana (silent meditation) retreat in the summer of 2018, I learned about pain.
It was Day 3 or 4 and we had been instructed to sit for an entire hour without moving. The pain was excruciating. The resistance was intense. I was at war with myself and then, when the gong went off and there was nothing to push against, I noticed a complete relief of tension. I was fine.
The next time I sat to meditate (another hour after a 10 minute break), I observed the resistance and released it. It’s hard to describe exactly what I did. It was something like, letting the sensations of pain flow through me like leaves on a river, rather than trying to cup my hands around them, or understand or making meaning out of them.
The sensations ebbed and flowed. Some might have been called “unpleasant” but I wasn’t in a space to judge them while I was just a casual observer, watching them flow by. They just were.
And when I have intense feelings of loneliness, boredom or heart-break I try to remember the experience I had with pain and discomfort on my meditation cushion. I try to allow them.
“This too shall pass”.
When I have a craving to jump off my couch and surf, or an intense restlessness in the rest of my body, the parts that aren’t broken, I try to let those sensations move through me.
I notice how my foot feels. How while apparently still, beneath my external flesh my body is busy: it’s in a process. It’s becoming something different than it was before. It’s becoming more than a foot that is unbroken. It’s becoming callused and perhaps stronger.
Maybe my spirit is in such a process as well.
The antidote to boredom and loneliness very often is a process of letting them move through, of observing the sensations and stepped back, out of the river to watch them flow by. A patience. Letting go.
I can’t surf today. But, it is the nature of waves that there will always be more.
Pima Chodron in her book When Things Fall Apart also references physical pain and restless in meditation while speaking of loneliness.
She writes,
“Usually we regard loneliness as the enemy. Heartache is not something we choose to invite in. It’s restless and pregnant and hot with desire to escape and find something or someone to keep us company. When we can rest in the middle, we begin to have a nonthreatening relationship with loneliness, a relaxing and cooling loneliness that completely turns our usual fearful patterns upside down.”
She continues,
“When you wake up in the morning and out of nowhere comes the heartache of alienation and loneliness, could you use that as a golden opportunity? Rather than persecuting yourself or feeling that something terribly wrong is happening, right there in the moment of sadness and longing, could you relax and touch the limitless space of the human heart?
“The next time you get a chance, experiment with this.”
In other words, something will come of this.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 28, 2021 | Addiction, Anxiety, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness
Can you do me a favour?
I want you to think about your thoughts.
Not just any thoughts: The Thought Spiral.
We all have thought spirals. You know, where your thoughts feel like they’re on an automatic playback loop? If you suffer from OCD, your thought spirals likely plague your existence.
Those with OCD have very strong and triple-thick rubber resistance band kinds of thought spirals. In OCD, the part of their brain that “gear shifts” (called the caudate nucleus, if you’re curious), unhooking the rubber band to start to play something else–a kind of “thank you, brain for sharing”–isn’t working. The thought loop plays and plays, intrusively, sometimes horrifyingly.
Even if you don’t have OCD and you can gear shift, you still probably know the rubber band thought loop I’m describing. I think that OCD is likely a spectrum and we all fall somewhere on the spectrum of our brain’s ability to shut off the caudate nucleus and gear shift out of a thought spiral.
Mental states such as fatigue, low blood sugar, dehydration, depression, anxiety, brain inflammation, and so on, make it more difficult to gear shift, because the brain requires a lot of energy to shut off the caudate nucleus.
The difference in those who have OCD is that the gear shift gets stuck way more frequently and the gears get lodged more strongly than those on the far other end of the spectrum.
On the far end of the spectrum may be those who hardly think about anything and let everything go and are super chillax and take nothing personally and all that (possibly some very experienced mediators can get there too).
So, back to the original question. Can you locate your thought loop?
That rubber band that fixates on whether your friends hate you because they took longer than 15 minutes to answer in the group text?
That rubber band that convinces you that the strange mole on your left thigh looks two shades darker than yesterday and you read on Google that that could mean that it’s cancerous, and your doctor looked at it (and then the doctor whose second opinion you sought) and said it was fine but that doctor might be a quack, what medical school could they even have gone to anyways, and now you’re planning your funeral?
Can you identify your thought spirals when they occur?
Thought rubber bands have a flavour. They sometimes speak in their own voice, or a particular tone. Or the way the thoughts jump from concept to concept is different from your normal, balanced and sober thoughts.
The thought spirals might produce a certain feeling in your body that is familiar (and often unpleasant): perhaps a sinking feeling in your stomach, or a 60-lb labrador retriever sitting on your chest. There may be a couple rubber band flavours: a mean one, a frenzied one, one that sounds like your mother, and so on.
Can you locate yours?
Does it have a name?
Sometimes people call it “OCD”–this is probably why people with OCD (especially “Harm OCD”, or thought loops that involve harming others, more on those later), often feel such relief at receiving the label. The label might help us (and our loved ones) recognize that we have a rubber band in the first place. That just because we have thoughts doesn’t necessarily mean anything. And this begins the process of something called Externalization.
Sometimes “OCD” isn’t the best name.
Some people call their thought loop “Herbert”.
I once heard a hilarious story where an individual named hers “Yes, Ma’am!”
Externalization.
Externalization is the act of locating the phenoma we have identified with as something outside of ourselves.
Oh my, imagine if you actually were Herbet (or OCD, or “Yes, Ma’am”). What if you actually believed them? Imagine believing OCD when she tells you that your best friend Glenda from 5th grade saw that funny look on your face that you let slip for a second when she revealed to you that she’s getting a divorce and you now think she thinks that you’re judging her and now she thinks you’re a horrible person or her feelings are hurt and that’s not the type of person you are you should have looked more supportive or asked more questions.
Ugh, that would be horrible.
Now you can think of OCD (or whatever your thought loop is called) as a person, or an entity separate from yourself that occupies your head from time to time. You can see it as a separate thing that might be helpful sometimes. Maybe you have the same values as your OCD sometimes (like the values of being a good and supportive friend and not making weird involuntary faces at Glenda).
Maybe the OCD stepped in quickly once to remind you to check your watch and you did and you actually did need to leave because more time had passed than you thought.
But, you can also think of OCD as a person who you are not 100% overlapped with. Maybe you’re really not friends with OCD if she’s the kind of person who keeps talking about you harming your dog, even though you love your dog (this is reference to certain versions of OCD, called Unwanted Thought Syndrome, or Harm OCD, where people have disturbing, often violent thoughts that are completely unaligned with their true selves. People might think about harming their dog or engaging in violent acts even thought they love their dog more than anything and haven’t squashed so much as a mosquito in their lives).
If you externalize these rubber band thought spirals, you are able to start the process of disconnecting from them. Then, you can start work with them. You can start to realize that they don’t mean anything.
Externalization helps us realize that thoughts of harming your dog aren’t your thoughts. And, more importantly, they don’t actually mean anything about you, your friend Glenda, or reality.
And, if you’re reading this and identify with any of the examples, let me just be your gear shift here and remind you that you are not these thoughts!
I’ll say it a different way: the fact that you’re upset by certain thoughts and think you’re a bad person for thinking them is more proof that you are not these thoughts.
In fact, for a moment I want you to think of a way in which you can’t possibly be that thought. Let’s just stop here for a second. I want you to think of a time you did something really nice for your dog. Did you get her a treat? Ok, then you’re not the type of person who would harm her!
(In an interview, Dr. Steven Phillipson says that he wouldn’t hesitate to let one of his patients with intrusive thoughts about pedophilia babysit his kids. “I’d be far more worried about you than them,” he assures his patients, highlighting that intrusive and unwanted thoughts don’t mean the thinker will act on them–but cause immense distress for the person thinking them).
Externalization helps us share our thoughts. This is why I believe the “Stop the Stigma” campaign is so important. It’s super hard to gear shift on your own. It’s especially hard to do it when you’re under-slept, or undernourished, or having a bad day. We need other people to be the gear shift for us sometimes, while we’re learning to grease the gears ourselves.
I call this “Outsourcing the Prefrontal Cortex”, running something by a friend who knows you and can reassure you that whatever horrific thought or idea is looping in your brain isn’t true or important or indication that you’re a bad person or need to call the police and go back and check if you ran someone over or text the person again.
There are times when I can get caught in thought spiral and I remember yanking at the gear (so there was a part that was able to externalize and even determine that the gear needed to be shifted, which already takes lots of practice). Despite my efforts, though I just wasn’t able to nudge it.
So I talked to a friend. And sometimes even saying it out loud helped—saying it out loud was a way to confront the thoughts. And she and I laughed and she reassured me. And I felt silly but it was what I needed to hear. And the gear moved. And I relaxed. And my brain could move on.
Sometimes seeking reassurance can be a compulsion, however. The difference lies in whether you can tolerate the thoughts and externalize them as thoughts, and Outsource your Prefrontal Cortex in order to unstick your gear shift.
There are three brain areas involved in OCD: the Orbitofrontal Cortex, the Anterior Cingulate Cortex and the Caudate Nucleus.
We are smart social creatures and our brains are geared so that we can learn from our mistakes. The orbitofrontal cortex sounds off an alarm when it thinks we’ve done something wrong. It is our error detection system. It’s the shock you feel when you realize, “Hey did I run over a speed bump back there or…”
The anterior cingulate cortex keeps us feeling uneasy and unsettled until the mistake is corrected. And the caudate nucleus, our “gear shifter” responds to error correction and turns off once we’ve done something correctly so we can move on.
In OCD all three areas are hyperactive. The main neurotransmitter of this brain circuit is glutamate, our excitatory neurotransmitter. This is why NAC (n-acetyl cysteine) can be such a helpful supplement for OCD, tourettes, tics, skin picking and hair-pulling, binge eating, and thought spirals and compulsions, as it “mops” up glutamate in the brain and can calm down the entire circuit. It’s also thought that the orbitofrontal cortex might be low in serotonin, why many people with OCD are prescribed Zoloft or another SSRI medications and can see some benefit from them–5HTP can be a helpful supplement for supporting serotonin synthesis in the brain but shouldn’t be mixed with SSRIs.
The gold standard treatment for OCD is Exposure and Response Prevention Therapy, or ERP.
ERP works by first viewing the thought loops as sticky, addictive substances while addressing our fears surrounding them by exposing us to the thoughts. If you’re afraid of snakes, exposure therapy engages a step by step process of getting you in front of a snake until the fear centre of your brain, the amygdala no longer associates friendly, non-poisonous snakes with danger. ERP is similar–when we face the intrusive thoughts head-on they start to lose their power over us.
ERP involves sitting with the thought loops and refraining from engaging in any compulsions until the brain stops caring about them, and the alarm stops sounding. OCD doesn’t necessarily involve compulsions–often the compulsions can be mental, such as constantly telling a friend (over-outsourcing the prefrontal cortex, let’s say).
It involves heading into the intrusive thoughts, and thought spirals, perhaps listening to recordings of yourself saying them, and sitting with the feelings of discomfort until you are used to them. You know when someone’s car alarm goes off in a parking lot and no one even turns to look? That’s how ERP wants you to engage with your intrusive thoughts.
Mindfulness and externalization are helpful tools to aid the process of ERP.
Often it’s necessary to explore why certain subject matter of the thoughts is so “hot”–perhaps looking under the hood at traumas and implicit memories that you may have experienced that may have led to an over-active alarm system. However, it’s probably necessary to start by building the skills of exposure and response prevention so that you can stay stabilized throughout your trauma therapy, by dampening the alarm system that kicks off the thought spirals.
One thing not to do, if you have OCD, is to go to a therapist who does more psychodynamic therapy, or who examines the “deeper” meaning of the thoughts. Your brain is already trying to do that (“What kind of person has these kind of thoughts?”) and it’s not helpful. Addressing trauma maybe be incredibly helpful at some point in your treatment plan, but analyzing and picking apart the thoughts is probably more damaging than useful.
Seeing the thoughts as just thoughts that show up in the mind and don’t mean anything important is a better attitude to take towards them.
You might not have OCD (again, I believe that it’s a spectrum), but you definitely have thought loops. You do have rubber band thoughts. And you do have a gear shifter.
When I get stuck in thought loops I try to gear shift by saying, “I’m enough”.
It’s not much, but it sometimes settles things down. Whatever I’m worrying about and obsessing about doesn’t matter as much–because I’m enough, just as I am.
It’s simple, and it’s been working.
If you suffer from OCD or you are having a hard time managing your intrusive thoughts, finding a therapist who focuses in ERP, or working with an ND who can help you strengthen your “gear shift” can be incredibly helpful places to get started.
You are not your thoughts.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 27, 2021 | Anxiety, Depression, Medicine, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness
In my last post on “I Treat Stories“, I talked about the spectrum between perfect “health” (perhaps better defined as “potential”) and disease, and death. The Disease Spectrum, perhaps we can call it.
And I also talked about the conflict many naturopathic patients experience when they are clearly not feeling well but are dismissed by the medical establishment because “there is nothing wrong”, i.e.: their signs and symptoms don’t fit into a disease classification.
I talk about functional conditions like insulin resistance and HPA axis dysfunction or estrogen dominance (or IBS, depression, anxiety) as these conditions in which functioning is impaired in someway, or the person doesn’t feel like themselves, and yet they are dismissed.
I want to correct this, however. I don’t believe that these conditions, even most diseases, per se, are the result of the body malfunctioning.
Instead, I think we should look at symptoms, and so-called pathologies and diseases, as the body adapting in a very functional way to circumstances that might be challenging, or malfunctioning.
Depression and anxiety are terrific examples of this.
In these conditions (which do fit a disease classification system, with which I very much do not agree–these classification systems rely only on symptoms, therefore they cannot possibly be viewed as true “diseases”), patients are told that they have an inborn malfunction–their brains don’t work properly. They might be told they have a chemical imbalance, or something to that nature, and that they require a lifetime of medication.
This can’t be farther from the truth.
Firstly, there has never been any evidence of these so-called brain imbalances. And there are no concrete physical signs of these “diseases” either. There are no universal changes to the brain, nothing that shows up on blood tests, and no issues with brain chemistry.
Even the therapies, usually SSRI medications, actually cause brain imbalances–there is no evidence that they solve them. There is also no evidence that they are safe and effective long-term (and limited evidence that they are safe and effective in the short-term).
What we do know is that animals in the wild become anxious when they are threatened.
And that animals in the wild become depressed when their anxiety response (their fight or flight survival response) is burnt out.
And that is the story I hear again and again in patients.
They have a history of anxiety–their nervous systems are wired “up”. This could be because of early childhood trauma. It could be attachment trauma, receiving insecure attachment or inadequate attunement from their caregivers. They might be contending with a great deal of conflict at the time of diagnosis. They may have psychological schemas about not being enough, leading to perfectionism and self-criticism, which their nervous system perceives as constant attack. They may have experienced anxious modelling from a parent or caregiver who suffers from anxiety (generational trauma, essentially).
They may be suffering from nutrient deficiencies, or a metabolic issue, giving their nervous system the input that there is a food shortage, one of our main historical stressors throughout human history.
And so on.
Ultimately, there is something happening in the environment in which their nervous system either lacks adequate safety signals or is receiving signals of danger or threat.
When patients present with depression they often describe a history of anxiety. Maybe they experienced it as “active” anxiety: feeling shaky and jittery, hyperactive, fearful, etc., or more “passive” or “mental” anxiety: worrying, ruminating, narrating, over-thinking, constant striving, self-criticism, thought loops, etc.
Not that anyone has ever asked them before reaching for the prescription pad, but when I talk to my patients presenting with depression they almost always report a baseline level of anxiety that has gone on for some time, followed by a period of acute stress, or shock, or loss, that led to this collapse of sorts.
At this point they experience extreme fatigue, low motivation, shut-down, paralysis, and intense self-criticism, even suicidal thoughts and intense feeling of hopelessness. The world starts to seem pointless. Their bodies and mind “shut down” in a sense.
And, of course they eventually seek solutions, firstly from the medical system (because we have been trained to medicalize the problemm–something has gone “off” with the machinery of the body. We locate the problem within ourselves, not with our situation.) and the response is pathologized, and most often medicated.
And then we talk about ending the stigma of mental illness (when in fact, many cases, if not most are not illnesses at all). What could be more stigmatizing or disempowering that the way we currently frame mental health?
Depression and anxiety are not sicknesses, or weaknesses. They are adaptations.
Depression is an inflammatory shutdown state that results from chronic overstimulation of the fear response in the nervous system. It is a symptom. It reflects the health of your very well-functioning brain and nervous system and their ability to adapt to adversity.
This adversity can be biological (infectious, a nutrient deficiency, metabolic issues, inflammation, etc.), mental, emotional, and environmental. It can (most often) be a confluence of one or more of these categories.
When a deer is trying to escape a predator and their fight or flight response fails to get them out of harms’ way, their nervous systems shut down. Their body releases opiates. They feel far away. Their limbs go limp. They can’t escape in body, so they escape in their minds and emotions. They despair. This is depression.
This is why the story is so important.
Without story, we can’t possibly understand what is going on for you specifically. We can’t possibly understand your situation. And, therefore, we can’t figure out what to do to help.
Is someone asking you about your story? Or are they just cataloguing your symptoms?
Are they asking about your family history, your history of trauma, the circumstances going on in your life? Are they talking to you about your thoughts, or your tendency to self-criticism and perfectionism? Are they asking you what you eat, how you move, how well you sleep, and how you recover from stress? Are they ruling out anemia, nutrient deficiencies, thyroid issues, fatty liver, insulin resistance, hormonal imbalances, and chronic inflammation, or gut issues?
Are they asking how content you are with your job? What your dreams are for the future? How fulfilled and loved you feel in your primary relationships? Are they asking you about poverty? Discrimination? Whether you feel safe in your neighbourhood? Whether you felt safe growing up as a kid?
Are they misdiagnosing your grief?
Does your healthcare practitioner get you? Can they connect the dots for you? Does talking to them give you a glimmer of hope, even in this hopeless time? Do you feel empowered and strong when you walk out of their office?
Or are they telling you you have a brain imbalance, or a in-born defect?
In reality, you are not defective. You are incredibly strong. Your body is adapting. It is resilient. And in its process of adaptation it is giving you these symptoms. Now, you don’t have to just tolerate these symptoms. There is so so much we can do. Perhaps pharmaceuticals are supportive for you while you start to compassionately look deeper.
But, there is so much more to the puzzle than just pharmaceuticals.
It’s worth asking,
What are you adapting to?
To learn more about nutrition and mental health, check out my course Feed Your Head.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 25, 2021 | Body Image, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Self-care, Self-esteem, Weight Loss
I’ve struggled with body image as much as the next woman. In certain influencer, nutrition and health circles I find “skinny” is confused for “healthy”. When we talk about health and wellness, people assume we mean “thinness”, or weight loss.
And I want to confess something: I hate treating weight loss.
I love love love when people notice positive side effects from their treatment plans: they’re sleeping better, more relaxed, have better skin and yes, have even noticed some weight loss, but when weight loss is our primary goal, something we’re aiming for at all costs, (and this is the key point) beyond the weight OUR BODY WANTS to be for health, then I’m often stumped.
My goal is to support the healing process of the body, and to do no harm.
Fat, while vilified in our society, is not a 4-letter word. (I also mean that literally… it’s… a 3-letter word).
Our bodies love fat. Fat is stored energy. It’s your cushy bank account—resources saved for a rainy day.
It’s mental, emotional, and physical protection. Our cushioning protects us against falls.
It’s a storage reserve for reproductive needs (growing a baby’s brain and breast-feeding).
It’s the rubber insulation of the electrical wiring of our nervous system and brain. It’s brain mass.
It’s a layer of warmth.
Stress, famine, lack of sleep, inflammation, and hormonal resistance, are some common signals that tell the body to store and maintain fat.
Our bodies also have a set point range at which they feel most comfortable—and this set point, unfortunately for our Instagram followers, may be higher than society tells us it should be.
I have found in my practice that if we treat the underlying causes of fat gain: the inflammation, poor sleep, chronic stress, insulin resistance, etc., we might notice weight loss as a happy side effect of improved metabolic functioning.
Sometimes our bodies have experienced mental, emotional, physical or metabolic trauma and need to hold onto their protective layer a little while longer.
Maybe your body thinks you need a little softness…
I created a course: Intuitive + Mindful Eating, body image, metabolic health, hormones and more.
So, if another diet “failed”, trust me, that’s normal. It’s not your fault.
Diets don’t work.
In fact, in the long run they do the OPPOSITE of what their supposed to do: improve our metabolic health.
Instead they DAMAGE our metabolic health, through cyclical restriction (which often leads to binging and weight gain). And this leads to guilt, shame, and a poor relationship with our body image and food.
The solution is to work with your body where it’s at.
– Understand how your metabolism works, and learn about your Set Point Weight.
– Listen to your cravings and hunger cues and use them as tools for communicating with your body to heal your metabolism
– Make peace with your body size through developing Body Neutrality (easier to achieve than body positivity for a lot of people) and becoming more “embodied”–feeling at home in your body vs. trying to change it.
– Recognizing that you can feel at peace with your body where it’s at right now: and that losing weight (if it means working against your metabolism) won’t make you healthy. And it won’t make you happy.
– Making peace with food through Intuitive and Mindful Eating.
– Practicing gentle nutrition that honours hunger cues and cravings and keeps you fuelled throughout the day.
– Self-compassion
– Understanding how hormones play a role in body size and metabolism and how to nurture them to feel your best.
I cover all of this in more in my course You Weigh Less on the Moon.
Because it’s true, you do!
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 25, 2021 | Anxiety, Depression, Diet, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Nutrition, Psychology
“A human being can endure anything.
“As long as they see the end in sight.
“The problem with depression is, you can’t see the end.”
Depression is like a ditch. Sometimes you head into and get stuck, but you manage to wiggle out. Other times you’re in a major rut and can’t get out at all. In those cases you need to call someone.
It happened to me once. I was driving in the winter to a hiking spot and I thought that a flat-looking patch of snow was the side of the road and before you know it I’d driven into a ditch. I couldn’t get out. I tried gunning it, putting rocks under my tires, getting a friend to push.
Eventually I just had to call someone. Within a few minutes, a tow truck came. The man driving it unceremoniously and unemotionally told me to put the car in neutral. He hooked a giant chain to my bumper. He yanked me out of the ditch. And then he drove off.
Roadside assistance.
In my last post I said something akin to “health is not emotional”. It’s sometimes just an equation.
With patients I educate them on their prefrontal cortex, on brain inflammation, on Polyvagal Theory and the nervous system and how depression is a normal response of the nervous system to abnormal circumstances, and how to they can work with their body and environment to get the help they need to yank them out of the ditch.
But I also talk about the people around us. We need them. We need them to be our prefrontal cortexes (because when you’re depressed or anxious yours isn’t working at full capacity–you CAN’T just yank yourself out a ditch, you need a tow truck, a chain and an unceremonious dude who knows what to do).
You need a strategy. You need a hand. You need help.
Depression often feels like an insurmountable barrier, making it hard to see beyond the immediate struggles. It’s essential to recognize that this condition is not a personal failing but a natural response of the nervous system to overwhelming circumstances.
By understanding the interplay between brain inflammation, the prefrontal cortex, and the nervous system through frameworks like Polyvagal Theory, patients can gain insights into their experiences and find ways to support their mental health effectively. This knowledge can empower individuals to take proactive steps, but it’s also crucial to remember that overcoming depression frequently requires external support.
In this context, resources like Avesta Ketamine Wellness offer valuable assistance. Their approach integrates cutting-edge treatments with a supportive environment, providing a crucial lifeline for those in need. Just as a tow truck and a skilled driver are essential for getting out of a ditch, having access to professional help and a comprehensive treatment plan can make all the difference in navigating the complexities of depression.
With the right support and strategy, individuals can find their way through challenging times and work towards regaining their mental well-being.
Who’s your support team? Who are the people around you?
I talk to my patients about bringing their loves ones on board to help them set up systems to regulate their nervous systems, nourish their brains and bodies (don’t even think for a second that I didn’t have a snack to munch on while waiting for the two truck–this fact is not even metaphorical. You NEED a literal snack to fuel your brain), and reduce inflammation.
There is a theory of depression that it is an ADAPTIVE state meant to get us through a difficult time.
Famine.
Capture by a predator.
Infection or illness.
Isolation from the group.
These may have been the historical hunter-gatherer inputs that caused depression but now it seems that depression can be triggered anytime our bodies are in a perceived or real “stuck” state with no way out.
Many, if not most, or all, depressive episodes I’ve worked with follow a period of intense anxiety. Our body’s stress response burns out, we can no longer “get away from danger” and we shutdown and collapse.
We turn inwards. We immobilize. We ruminate (possibly as a way to THINK our way out of danger).
This is why the 2a serotonin receptors that encourage “active coping” or things like BDNF, which is involved in making new brain cells, have important roles in the treatment research for major depression.
I’ll bet you’ve been told you have a disease, though. Something incurable that you’ll deal with your whole life.
But what if, rather than a disease, depression is a STATE you visit, and sometimes get stuck in that follows anxiety, stress and certain triggers?
How might that change the way you see yourself and your mental health? How might that change the way you seek solutions to how you’re feeling?
“The Adaptive Rumination Hypothesis by Andrews and Thomson posits that depression is not a pathology but a set of useful complex thoughts and behaviours that enable troubled people to withdraw temporarily from the world, deliberate intensively about their social problems, and devise solutions.”
From the Psychiatric Times
The major problem with depression that keeps us stuck in the state is when we turn our rumination back on ourselves and engage in self criticism.
Support your mood from the gut up by Feeding Your Head.
by Dr. Talia Marcheggiani, ND | Jun 25, 2021 | Body Image, Mental Health, Mind Body Medicine, Mindfulness, Weight Loss
Yes.
Have you heard of something called “self-objectification”?
It is the effect of moving through the world imagining how your body looks to others: perhaps checking yourself out in the mirror, adjusting clothing, taking selfies–the awareness of your body moving through space and the impact your “image” has on others. As if part of your consciousness is outside of yourself, looking in.
Self-objectification is so so common. We all do it.
Does my hair look ok?
Can you take another picture?
I wish my thighs were more toned.
Do this ____make my ____ look _____?
Remember when you were a kid and you just went to the beach? Or, maybe take a page out of Teddy’s book, in the first photo. She doesn’t care about her beach body. She just wants to be on the beach, running, free.
Self-objectification prevents us from being present, from enjoying life. It blocks creativity and flow state.
The remedy?
Embodiment.
Presence.
Body neutrality (the art of worrying about other things—how you look is truly probably the least interesting thing about you!)
Mindfulness.
How does my body feel?
What can my body do?
Am I hungry?
What food do I love to eat?
Am I thirsty?
What would I like to drink?
How does the sun or water FEEL on my skin?
How does the sand feel between my toes?
Can I taste the air on my tongue?
Do my muscles feel tense or relaxed?
Am I breathing from my belly or my chest?
Do I want to move or rest?
And so on.
No matter what, though, the beach is ready for you.
I created a course to introduce you to these topics and more. It’s called you Weigh Less on the Moon.
