Recently in Nutrition Category

Printed words tell us information we never knew before, and once we become proficient in reading, the message translates into knowledge with little effort. The same is true for me--a pianist who reads printed music, except the song I discover comes from reading dots and lines and symbols. 

In both scenarios, however, comprehension requires focus. If we do not direct our full attention to reading, we are unlikely to retain the information, just as I am unlikely to play a song correctly if I allow my mind to wander while playing.

There is no doubt that focus improves performance, but attention control can be very difficult to master. I believe it is one of the biggest reasons why some musicians, athletes, and entrepreneurs are more successful than others. Sure, talent plays a part, but if the gifted musician isn't focused on the song, the passion is lost and result is less than perfect.

I have a few fleeting moments of focus when I play, and it always feels good when it happens. I find myself thinking of nothing other than the song. I don't worry about mistakes, I don't care if anyone is listening, and I trust that the notes are right, even if the chords are a little unusual. There is no room for worry when my brain cells are consumed by the rhythm, melody, message, and the expressive translation of what is on the page.

Unfortunately, I have no answers for how to achieve focus. I am told that training, meditation, and adequate sleep, nutrition, and exercise all effect our ability. One thing is for certain: we've got to want it. There must be a measure of desire to get lost in a story, learn a new fact, set a new record, or just play a new song.

How do you control your focus?

I recently listened to a serious debate between friends over who served the best pizza.  

It's funny how we harbor such strong feelings over this combination of tomato sauce, cheese and flour. I never hear animated discussions over spaghetti even though we Americans eat plenty of that.

Then it occurred to me that there will never be a consensus. This is partly because our deep-rooted, individual pizza preferences are often tied to subconscious, positive memories.

I remember the pizza from The Berlinsville Hotel. I think there was just one Italian family near the tiny town of Berlinsville, and they didn't own or cook at the Hotel. Nor did the place have a brick oven or fancy chef. It was simply where Mom and Dad would go on the rare occasions that we strayed from our culinary routine.  

Occasionally I would wake to find an empty box in the house, evidence that my parents treated themselves after we kids went to bed. It's entirely possible that this pizza was not good enough to warrant my distressed reaction to the discovery, but frankly, to me this basic barroom pizza was the best, and I've never found an adequate replica.

Where do you stand in this debate?  Can you still get your favorite pizza?

I wholeheartedly believe that nutrition is a key to good health. My body needs fruits, vegetables, good carbs, quality fats, and protein. I cannot exist on fried foods and sugar without consequence, and all the proof I need is in the way I feel after eating a healthy meal vs. an unhealthy one.

But my best intentions are often destroyed in the grocery store where I stand in the produce isle baffled by what to buy. Is this ripe? What country did it come from? What chemicals does is contain? How do I cook it? I wind up buying the same old USA organic apples and carrots and proceed on, tantalized by the ready-made products that vie for my attention along the path to the checkout counter.

I've tried to start my own garden, but dealing with an overabundance of rocks and deer requires too significant an investment. And I fear that I'll abandon the project when summer fun starts or frustrations set in over diseased plants or hungry pests.

So finally I have found and joined a CSA. In short, I've become a member of a Community Supported Agriculture farm, and am now a shareholder in a local 2009 harvest. I purchased my share back in March from an organic farmer who lives about 15 minutes from my house.  Now, as the crops are coming in, I split the harvest with the farmer and all the other shareholders.  

I do not know if I will receive $300 worth of food by season's end; returns depend on the risks of drought and flood, but together this community of stake holders will share the farmer's burden. Together we provided the cash needed to get the crops started and have ensured the farm operation continues. Together we will eat.

I picked up my first yield on Sunday and am realizing how valuable this arrangement will be to my health. In addition to receiving a jar of honey and one dozen organic eggs, I filled my refrigerator with greens -- salad mix, Swiss chard, bok choy, snap peas, and one other leafy green vegetable I cannot identify. Now I HAVE to eat well.

Fewer trips to the grocery store to buy perishables means less temptation from convenience foods, and new varieties of vegetables means I must open those dust-gathering cookbooks. My body is beginning to get the foods it needs at the time of year when nature determines it is supposed to be eaten.  

The research needed to join a CSA must happen in the winter (or late fall) when the farmer is planning her next season. For this year, you can still do what has always helped me: stop at the roadside farm stands or visit the seasonal farmer's markets. This is one way to get fresh, healthy food and support your local farmer, but the drawbacks are that you still don't know how it was grown, you can't be sure it came from the farmer himself, and you'll probably walk away without experimenting beyond the same old apples and carrots. Besides, most of the farmer's markets also sell those irresistible fried and sugar foods that taste so much better than they make us feel.

If you want to learn more about CSAs, check out the site: LocalHarvest.org.