Her famous advice, to get rid of things that don't "spark joy," has given rise to sarcastic vows to dispose of things like diets, vegetables, shapewear, gym memberships and exercise equipment.
Yeah, I get the joke. Watching your weight, moving and otherwise holding onto health are joyless things. At least they can't compare to other joys, like eating a dozen cupcakes at one sitting or binge-watching "Property Brothers" while vegged out in a recliner.
And then there's the concept of "comfort food." When most people use the term, they're thinking of heavy, cheesy or creamy foods, like pizza, mucus-y casseroles or soups, ice cream or French fries.
Well...any hope I have for long-term success maintaining my weight (135 pounds less than it was two years ago) depends on rethinking what I mean by "comfort" and "joy."
I need to ask myself whether I can find comfort in foods that fuel my body without bulking it up.
I need to ask myself whether putting on my gym togs and blocking off an hour or two of gym time is, or can be, something that sparks joy.
When I was overweight or obese -- that's most of my adult life -- I used to tell people, "The reason people eat comfort food is because it works." And I'm not going to lie: There have been times when I have been soothed by the smell and the taste of two Filet-O-Fish sandwiches from McDonald's, a Sourdough Melt or Buffalo chicken tenders from Culver's, or a pint of just about any flavor of Ben and Jerry's ice cream (especially the salted caramel core).
Nor am I going to lie about my previous exercise habits, or lack thereof. Exercise was a chore, and I'm not even talking about the kind of exercise one does at a gym, because I wouldn't go near one. I'm talking about day-to-day movement, like walking from the parking lot to the store, or taking the stairs instead of the elevator to the second floor.
In the last two years, however, there's been a sea-change in how I experience both comfort from food and joy from intentional movement.
I haven't given up cheesy or creamy foods, but I eat a lot less of them. And I find comfort in the vivid flavors and textures of foods like tandoori shrimp, fajitas eaten with a fork instead of tortillas, lemon-pepper grilled salmon, hot-and-sour soup and Mongolian beef with extra veggies. Onions and peppers, preferably raw, are comfort foods to me now. So are steamed vegetables, served piping hot, with maybe a dash of lemon-pepper or Tabasco.
Comfort is where you make up your mind to find it.
So is joy.
I think of the gym or the lap pool as playgrounds. I prefer the term "playtime" to "workout," because recreation, in the literal sense of the word, is what exercise feels like to me. And I get a rush -- induced by endorphins, satisfaction or a little of both -- when I head for the showers after my workout to wash off the patina of sweat.
Do I have to try hard to keep these attitudes? Sometimes, especially when I'm tired, stressed or bored.
But I discern some enduring physical as well as psychological changes in the way I look at food and exercise.
The thought of binge-eating makes me vaguely ill, in the rare moments when I consider it -- and no pleasure I might get from it would be as powerful as the guilt, or the stomachache.
And, as hard as it sometimes is to make time for workouts, I mean playtime, the pleasure of movement and the satisfaction of reaching a goal bring me genuine joy.
Changes in long-held attitudes don't happen overnight. It's a journey. But what a great destination.
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