I'm gonna take it one step farther and agree with whatever anonymous person famously said, "Food is Life!"
I love food. I love cooking, baking, eating, savoring, looking at glossy photos of brightly colored vegetables (why do you think all those post-renaissance Dutch painters did all those gorgeous still life paintings?) and preparing it into a salad or something roasted or steamed or broiled or sauced... In addition to being very good for you, food is beautiful.
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Brenda & Miss D make good points. Life should be enjoyed and both eating and moving are part of what makes happiness possible. And when I was fat, or more accurately, when I was sick with my food addiction, I was desecrating the sanctity of food and punishing myself with exercises that did nothing. So the American version of still life painting is:
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There's no way that doesn't look like something that should be swept off the table into the trash can. But once upon a time, I would have eaten as much of it as I could fit in.
Anyway, I think I found my new signature line:
“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
That may be the key to life. The holistic incorporation of human body functions, melded sanely together in a celebration, no shame, and a sense of having lived a good life. Or as de La Rochefoucauld famously said, “To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art.”
It's time to let food come out of the closet and become part of your joyous existence. Even the great, thick, brobdignagian Orson Welles knew that. “My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four, unless there are three other people.”