I said I wanted to learn to cook, right? What better motivation could I need?

So, I just read a pretty fascinating book called Gluten-Free Girl by Shauna James Ahern. In this memoir-cum-cookbook, Ahern chronicles her food habits as a child, her chronic illnesses, and finally her diagnosis of celiac disease, which renders her unable to eat foods that contain gluten (typically wheat, barley, rye and spelt). Rather than adopting a poor-me attitude, Ahern embraced her diagnosis and began a journey of discovery. Armed with a well-stocked kitchen, unusual ingredients, and a healthy zeal for eating, Ahern began creating sumptuous gluten-free recipes, such as Chilled Millet Salad with Jicama and Mango and Roasted Cauliflower with Smoked Paprika and Cocoa Powder.

Okay, I know you’re wondering. Why do I, someone who wholly detests cooking, find this book interesting? Well, actually there are a couple of reasons. One is that my holistic doctor told me to stop eating gluten. While I certainly don’t have full-blown celiac disease, I am apparently gluten sensitive, or intolerant, or something. Two, Ahern talks again and again about healing herself with food, a concept I’m coming to understand more and more. As a vegetarian and lifelong picky eater, I’ve always seen eating as a chore: something that has to be done to stay alive. I’ve never relished it as the pleasurable experience that so many people seem to do.

Also, I’ve been feeling like crap for years. Literally. Years. I’m exhausted, run-down and feel malnourished, even though I’ve always thought that I followed a reasonably healthy diet. And, whereas I’ve never gotten that much joy from eating, I do love to read. And Ahern painted sumptuous pictures in my head of delicious, beautiful meals. So, I think I’m going to try to learn to cook. I want to take the time to create art out of whole, healthy foods to heal my body and restore its proper nutrient balance. I want to look at eating as a joy, rather than something I dread…

For the past few months, people have been telling me to read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. Like, literally once a month someone would recommend it to me. So I finally bit the bullet and put my name on the waiting list. I got my copy a few days ago, and I have to admit that so far I’m really enjoying it. A lot of her experiences speak to me, since she studied at an ashram (which I would like to do) and traveled to Bali, which I am doing next month! I’m only about halfway through, but so far there have been two passages that really caught my attention.

• What was the root of all this despair? Was it psychological? (Mom and Dad’s fault?) Was it just temporal, a “bad time” in my life? (When the divorce ends, will the depression end with it?) Was it genetic? (Melancholy, called by many names, has run through my family for generations, along with its sad bride, Alcoholism.) Was it cultural? (Is this just the fallout of a postfeminist American career girl trying to find balance in an increasingly stressful and alienating urban world?) Was it astrological? (Am I so sad because I’m a thin-skinned Cancer whose major signs are all ruled by unstable Gemini?) Was it artistic? (Don’t creative people always suffer from depression because we’re so supersensitive and special?) Was it evolutionary? (Do I carry in me the residual panic that comes after millennia of my species’ attempting to survive a brutal world?) Was it karmic? (Are all these spasms of grief just the consequences of bad behavior in previous lifetimes, the last obstacles before liberation?) Was it hormonal? Dietary? Philosophical? Seasonal? Environmental? Was I tapping into a universal yearning for God? Did I have a chemical imbalance? Or did I just need to get laid?

• For instance, when I told a friend back in New York City that I was going to India to live in an Ashram and search for divinity, he sighed and said, “Oh there’s a part of me that so wishes I wanted to do that…but I really have no desire for it whatsoever.”

These passages struck me because they represent what I’ve been struggling with lately. What is the root of my melancholy? And why am I so disinterested in everything lately? I’m not sure of the answers, so in addition to my amazing upcoming vacation (along with Bali, I’m also going to Singapore to see my family) I have also embarked on a new health journey with a holistic doctor. It’s not easy; I’m taking vast quantities of supplements, some of which are NOT vegetarian friendly, which is freaking me out, but after years of feeling depressed and icky, I feel that this is something I need to do. I can’t wait to see how the book ends; maybe the answers that Gilbert found will help me too.

I enjoy the web comic xkcd. I don’t always understand it, since it frequently deals with coding and complex math, but I generally get a kick out of it (enough that I bought my husband an xkcd shirt for his last birthday). Anyway, there was a recent strip about fruit that I thought was hilarious. I totally agree: grapefruit tastes terrible and is a pain to peel and separate. But that got me thinking. What are my favorite fruits and veggies? So Lindsay and I decided to each post a list of our 10 favorite fruits and 10 favorite vegetables. Here are mine, though they are not ranked in any particular order.

I also love juiced Ginger root. And most definitely hate olives. Always have.

My mom called me a couple days ago to tell me she dropped her grapefruit at work. It ended up rolling under a bus. Awesome. Right where grapefruit belongs.

If emotions fell on a sliding scale from sadness to happiness, with neutral in the middle, I think my natural state would fall somewhere on the sadness side. It’s not intentional, though. I do try to be optimistic, and sure, I can have fun and be happy, especially with my friends, family, and pets…but at night before bed, when I’m just sitting still and being me, sadness tends to creep in.

I used to think this was weird, and that there was something wrong with me, but then I started paying attention. I work in a library; we have an entire section of books dedicated to finding joy in life. At our all-staff meeting last week, the keynote speaker’s speech was about how to be truly happy. The number one class at Harvard right now? How to find happiness. In my particular circle of family and friends, I know more people who are on anti-depressants than who aren’t.

So what’s the cause of all this? Why do people need to learn how to be happy? I mean, shouldn’t that come naturally? Is it the capitalist American lifestyle, wherein people throw themselves into the highest-paying job, regardless of whether it’s fulfilling, and then divvy up the few remaining hours left among family, friends, and hobbies (i.e., the fun things)? Is it the seemingly apocalyptic world out there, full of poverty, famine, war, disease, earthquakes, plane crashes, etc.? Is it the state of the planet, with global warming, endangered species and thousands of homeless pets? Is it perhaps the Standard American Diet (the SAD acronym is no coincidence!) with its unhealthy, overprocessed “food?” Are we not eating the nutrients that release dopamine and other feel-good chemicals into our brains?

I don’t know the answer. And I don’t really know how to stop the blues that seem to strike me for no apparent reason. Maybe we’re programmed this way; perhaps we need a little sadness in life so that we can fully appreciate joy when we find it. I know for sure that chemicals are not the solution for me, so anti-depressants are out. So here is how I cope: I try to eat an abundance and variety of fresh fruits and veggies and limit the processed crap (hey, I said try); I try to live as green as possible and leave a positive environmental footprint. I try live a vegetarian/vegan lifestyle and donate my time and money to worthwhile causes. And I’m trying not to let my capitalist nature win. I have a job that pays well, but is ultimately unfulfilling. There used to be a time when I enjoyed helping customers, even when the bureaucratic aspects of my job bothered me. But even that time has passed. Now I get irritated when customers need help, even though that’s the whole reason I’m there. I know the time has come to find a new path, and I’m working on that. I was just offered a very interesting job last week, but at less than half my current salary, and with no health benefits. I turned it down, because taking it would have made paying my bills difficult and cut into the kind of lifestyle I’m used to. I feel trapped: I hate my job, but it pays just enough to keep me hooked. So I’m trying to find a balance: a job that pays well enough to make ends meet, and that also rewards my soul/spirit. I haven’t found it yet, but I am going to school in October, and after that I should be able to start my health counseling business, which has long been a dream, and which I know will be rewarding. Until then, I guess I have to focus on the good points of my job: it pays fairly well, I get to work with two of my best friends, it’s indoors, and I have an inside track on all the latest books. I guess, for now, that’s not too bad.

So, until I find the key to lasting happiness, I will focus on appreciation: trying to find the good in all the things in my life, and as well as the best aspects of the bad things. Of course, I’m also going on a beach vacation in April, and that makes me very happy! So I guess there’s still hope for me.