Continued from Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato: Part I: So where was the artificial distinction between mind and body? Could that be at the heart of my adoption of potatohood as a way of life? Deep in thought, I prepared my salad while vaguely aware of the pleasant scents of fresh basil and lettuce and the tang of lemon dressing ready to pour. I carried my plate of salad back to the library, ready for course three . . .

As I finished my delicious gazpacho of The Biology of Belief, it occurred to me that I had no idea what a calorie actually was, much less why I needed to slough a few thousand of them off in order to stop being a couch potato.

I decided to make calories my third course. Delightfully crisp and crunchy, Wikipedia, which happened to be on my computer, was waiting to be plated up and dressed. I dug into course three with gusto:

The calorie is a pre-SI metric unit of energy. The unit was first defined by Professor Nicolas Clément in 1824 as a unit of heat. This definition entered French and English dictionaries between 1841 and 1867. In most fields its use is archaic, having been replaced by the SI unit of energy, the joule. However, in many countries it remains in common use as a unit of food energy. The kilocalorie per mole remains in use in computational chemistry and molecular spectroscopy.

OK, so something about the calorie being a unit of energy. No wonder I always feel like a baked couch potato, because the calorie is a unit of heat! Something about it being an archaic form of measurement for heat. And something about it being a measurement of food energy.

Did fat people exist prior to 1841? And do chemists somehow deal with giant, red-hot garden pests at times (kilocalorie per mole)? I began to imagine the attacks of giant moles (energized with kilocalories of electric force not unlike Godzilla) attacking couch potatoes at their roots while they lay semi-comatose amidst empty bags of chips and crumpled cans of soda. No wait! I’m reading into it; I need to stick to the facts. Later on, I found this in Wikipedia:

In the context of food energy the term calorie generally refers to the kilogram calorie. However, the term kilocalorie (kcal), referring to one thousand gram calories, is also on in widespread use especially by professional nutritionists (when speaking in terms of calories rather than joules). To avoid confusion, the the prefix kilo- is not used with the kilogram calorie.

OK. So this much we know so far: a calorie can be both a gram calorie or a kilogram calorie. Wow! Something that can not only be itself but also one thousand times bigger! Who would know? I could claim that a favorite dessert was only 200 calories when in reality, it was 200,000 calories! No wonder the body was confused! No wonder I was a couch potato!

I was suddenly overcome with all of the flavors from each course I had enjoyed so far. I felt full and replete. Armed with this new knowledge about the calorie, and fighting off an mysterious need to cleanse my palate before continuing, I was ready for the fourth course.

The fourth course, a sorbet of particular distinction. As I was thinking about the fourth course, I had wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. Absently, I reached for a beer then stopped myself. No more red-hot giant moles nipping at my roots zapping me with kilocalories of energy, nosiree! I will save the beer for cases of extreme emergency, say when I need to rehydrate after going out to the mailbox or if I need to cool down those kilocalories on a hot day. My man, Dr. Lipton, was right when he said:

The conscious mind’s capacity to override the subconscious mind’s preprogrammed behaviors is the foundation of free will.

I could exercise my free will and that provided the key to the fourth course — exercise! Soon I was bending and stretching in ways that would have popped my eyes out as a couch potato. From deep within my potato consciousness I drew forth old memories of all the hiking, biking, kayaking and yoga I used to do as a young spud.

After the stretching, I ran up and down the staircase a few times just to get the starches going. Winded but happy, I savored this fourth course rediscovery of moving for moving’s sake. My palate was refreshed and I was ready to move on to see what other delights awaited me.

My fifth course was a flight of the spirit. Traditional cookbooks call for poultry to provide the focus of the fifth course. A suggestion I hardily endorse. Nothing beats Chicken Amore, dazzlingly encrusted with mushrooms, garlic, olives, and thyme. No vegetarian I! However, this bird was of a decidedly metaphorical kind, and I wanted my fifth course to soar on wings of gossamer, not bog down with kilocalories of gustatory gluttony. This thyme-less bird would have all its feathers intact and quite free of encrusted glazes as it reached for the clouds. It was time to meditate.

My office library once again provided the solution to this course in due time. It took the form of The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It’s a story about a young shepherd who goes after his dream and finds a world of magic, ecstasy, wealth, and hope.

With slight raspberry overtones, this deliciously simple book never fails to leave me with whispers of its sweet after note. It was the perfect complement to the first four courses. I read a few of my favorite passages and settled down for a long overdue session with myself that required only my complete presence and a willingness to sit in silence . . .

Continued in Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato: Part III . . .

About the Author
Timothy Thompson is a professional freelance writer/editor whose work with Dream Manifesto helps illuminate life for online and offline audiences around the world. He currently makes his home in southern California and is working on several content writing and editing projects. Visit Thompson Inkworks for information.