Hospital unnies! Group date at the car accident hospital with the Kaizen Collective.

“What a car crash is teaching me about mindfulness behind the wheel and in front of my mouth.”

Saturday, March 2, a car bumped into my bike and left me with some bruises and a lot of rage. (I’m okay!) The American in me knows this is insane, but it’s customary in Korea to do a short hospital stay right after an accident to access regular care throughout the day. Part of this is milking the insurance so there’s light “lockdown” during the stay- it’s not a retreat, it’s respite. I was “allowed” to go out and get snacks… with permission and my absence was timed.

Cigarettes and Sandwiches

I’m instantly transported back to 12 year old Mindy- in the midst of a divorce that manifested itself most viscerally through food. Groceries were an afterthought for my dad on a steady diet of Winston Reds washed down with a thermos of Folgers’ finest, on the daily. Mom took to playing happy homemaker for the first time in my memory. Elaborate sandwiches (her closest approximation to cooking) were prepped and marked “John” next to the ingredients understood to be John’s. (Aka: not yours.)

Thus, food security issues were born. When I feel (whether based in reality or not) that someone else has any control over my food, my reaction is to gorge: to overeat, to over buy, to prepare for impending doom whether big or small. The unconscious script was, “I can’t depend on these people to provide for me; helplessness is not an option; I’m scared of feeling hungry and not having control over the solution.”

When allowed to snack stock- I bought:

a footlong sub,
2 bags of chips,
2 giant cups of ramen,
a sleeve of Oreos and
an ice cream cone- for the 50 meter walk back to the hospital. This was on night 2/4.

“You’re Starving” and Other Lies I’ve Told Myself

I wasn’t starving. Oreos were feeding the story in my head, not the needs of my body. I began to hear echoes of another moment where I pulled stories I’d absorbed into the light: “Gatherings are boring without alcohol.” “Alcohol counts as an activity.”

“Don’t Forget You Might be Wrong.”

A year sober, I realize that boring gatherings with alcohol are still boring but with a longer suffering period and there’s nothing better than actually choosing to do something, with excitement, with joy, with anticipation, rather than leaning on alcohol the be the thing you do to get through.

This mantra was repeated by comedian, Pete Holmes, on his podcast in reference to his father who thinks a thought that got stuck 40 years ago. Just because a story has historical gravity doesn’t mean it is or, perhaps, it isn't still true. Truths can change. And that’s what I’m again realizing now, almost in real time- don’t forget you might be wrong.