I wonder if this is too clunky of an idea to translate to anyone else, or if it only works for my own geeky visualization-dependent brain, but here goes:
Lately I’ve been thinking about a dietary model of “saucer separation” as a way of leaving undesirable foods behind.
If you’ve watched much Star Trek, you know what I’m talking about: those rare occasions when the crew (at least on the first two versions of the show that used the Enterprise) faced some kind of crisis in which they felt compelled to separate the “saucer” part of the ship from the rest of the framework.
When I visualize this for dietary purposes – like on my recent attempt at the Martian Potato Diet – I like to think that the ship represents all of the food available to the omnivore, but that when saucer separates from the main ship, it’s carrying only those foods that are allowable on the diet. Everything else is left behind.
To really engage this visualization, I have to set my long-view lens on a target date – or weight — for completion of the journey. Once I’ve done that, and visualized the saucer separation, then that’s it. From that point on, I’m on a different trajectory than the foods that were left behind on the other part of the ship. I may see foods that don’t fit my diet, but they’re not quite real. They exist in some alternative universe that doesn’t pertain to my reality.
I suppose this might work for a Star Trek fan who’s also more of an abstainer than a moderator, to use Gretchen Rubin’s dietary model.
It may also be another way of visualizing what a blogger friend refers to when he says he “changes the tape” to shut down the voices in his head that try to sabotage sound dietary decisions.
It’s a way of saying, to those saboteurs in your head who’ve just ruined your best intentions for the umpteenth time, “We’re not playing that game anymore, we’re playing this game – and you don’t get to play.”