Was I a long-lived Okinawan in my former life?

I ask this question because I am currently going through a personal mini-revolution of sorts, the cause of which is a book I am reading called The Okinawa Program. Listen, I don't mean to get all evangelical on anyone, but I feel passionately enthusiastic about this book. I'm five chapters into it, and already I'm a changed woman. I know I often speak (and write) in hyperboles, but I do mean it when I say this book has had a powerful effect on how I think about health, lifestyle, food, weight, and age. I want to recommend it to everyone I know who is interested in health, nutrition, Eastern thought, and science. It's that good.

Here's the deal: Earth's longest-lived human beings live on an island off of Japan called Okinawa. I believe it served as a U.S. base of operations in World War Two. (I'd better check that, though. I'd hate to be dead wrong about a key time in U.S. history. A-hem.) Anyway, this land was once the Kingdom of Ryuku, but now it is a territory of Japan that-I believe-is subject to Japan's rule. And while Japan boasts better life-span statistics than the United States, Okinawa's lifespan numbers are the best (i.e., highest) in the world. A significant percentage of Okinawans live to be 100 or older, and they maintain good quality of life into their nineties and beyond. So we've got a lot to learn from these people, obviously. They must be doing something, if not everything, right.

A group of science-medicine-academic types began formally studing elderly Okinawans more than 25 years ago, and their findings, plus recommendations for we Westerners who want a little of what the Okinawans have, are documented in this well-organized, fact-packed, readable book.

I am so impressed. For starters, I, like probably most Americans, tend to get my health and nutrition info in bits and pieces here and there from a variety of credible and not-so-credible sources: fitness magazines, national and local media, diet books, etc. It can be exhausting and frustrating trying to keep on top of it all and weed out the fact from the hype. One simple yet brilliant thing the authors of this book have done is to basically compile the latest and most-proven health and lifestyle information in one place and footnote it so that you can know exactly which studies produced which facts. Hooray! They've weaved all of this information in where appropriate; that is, where it relates to the Okinawan lifestyle and contributes to Okinawans' superior health and longevity. For instance, there's a wonderfully detailed (and admittedly frightening) section on trans fat, a nutrient that has just recently been examined by researchers and categorized as really, really bad. In explaining what trans fats are, how they affect one's health, and where they appear in popular American foods, the writers make the point that Okinawans don't eat trans fat, ever. Because it's a manufactured fat produced by food companies to keep food "fresh" (read: "preserved") without refrigeration for long periods of time, it's used mainly in convenience foods, the likes of which the older Okinawan generation has never even seen, much less ingested. (By the way, I am horrified to learn that trans fats show up in places I'd never expected, including powdered cocoa mixes-Damn you, Swiss Miss!-and microwave popcorn.)

Another appealing characteristic of the writing is its straightforwardness and total lack of author-promoting spin. (Anyone who's read the late Robert Atkins's The New Diet Revolution and hated it knows what I'm talking about. Ugh.) The authors of The Okinawa Program are clearly so excited about the findings of their research that they feel compelled to share it with the Western world, and they are careful to do it in a way that is direct, honest, and respectful. Where so many "hot" diet books insult their readership by taking a defiant tone and failing to provide scientific or medical evidence to back their claims, this book shows nothing but respect and concern for its readers by providing as much science-based, well-documented information as possible. I appreciate that immensely. And the result of all of this directness and honesty is powerful, influential writing. When the authors tell you your high saturated-fat intake and social isolation are slowly killing you, you know they're not playing around. They've footnoted that statement three times over, and they haven't minced words. Powerful stuff.

So, on to how The Okinawa Program is changing my life. Well, for starters, it's really reshaped my thinking about my health in general. Instead of seeing it as little individual compartments that I label "good," "bad," or "mediocre" (nutrition: bad, physical fitness: mediocre, emotional fitness: good, etc.), I'm seeing it more holistically. I'm also taking my health much more seriously, because the hard, cold truth is that I'm 29 years old, so playtime is over. People, I'm nearly 30. One can't afford to be effing around with one's arteries and bone density and whatnot at that age. And considering the amount of effing around (with my health, that is) I did in my teens and twenties, it's high time I made amends. There's no time to waste anymore. Each decision I make now will contribute to my overall cumulative health, and that's serious business. It's hard to explain, and I'm not doing a good job of expressing the fundamental shift in thinking I'm undergoing, but here are some specific changes I have made so far, and some that I plan to make over the next year:

So far, I have set a requirement for myself to eat five fruits and vegetables (total) per day. I'm starting with five, and I plan to work up to seven over the next several weeks. This is a big deal for me, as I have probably never eaten this many fruits and veggies on a per-day basis in my entire life. Fortunately, I'm enjoying the challenge! I have also increased my daily intake of flavonoid foods, which include soy products, tea, and cranberry juice. I am trying to eat fish once per week for now, be it in the form of sushi or a tuna-fish sandwich. I'm rarely eating mayonnaise. I'm cutting way the hell down on my baked-goods consumption. I'm shopping around for a vegetable steamer. I'm setting aside (more) time each week to knit and see friends. I'm taking walks often.

Over the next year, I will be experimenting with Asian cooking and ingredients. I wasn't born with a taste for tofu, but I'll acquire one! I've got friends to help me with this, thank goodness. (Hi, CL!) I'm also excited about incorporating miso into simple dishes and making stir-fry and curry. When I feel my ailing hip can handle it, I'll return to yoga and maybe give Tai Chi a try. I also plan to make keeping a clean, tidy, cozy home a priority. I'd also like to watch less television (gulp) and do more trying of new things.

I think the timing for all of this couldn't be better, since, as I mentioned, I'm turning 30 this year. Perhaps making healthful lifestyle changes will help me greet the Big Three-Oh with less trepidation and more acceptance. Hell, maybe I'll embrace it!

One step at a time, though.

Things That Are Meditative

I've done the type of meditation that comes to mind when you hear the word: the kind that involves sitting on the floor on a cushion or yoga mat, legs folded into the lotus position, palms resting upward on thighs, eyes closed. Each time I've been guided, along with yoga classmates, through the meditation by an instructor, and each time I've felt that I wasn't quite doing it "right." The repetitive, mindful breathing never fully "takes," I guess you'd say. I'm never able to lull myself into that sort of subconcious state of concentration; my mind wanders away from the pattern of the breathing, and the next thing you know, I'm rehashing old high-school relationships or wondering when I'll decide to have a baby and what I'll name it. That kind of thing.

Lately, though, I've started noticing the meditative qualities of other activities, things that aren't called "meditation" but for me result in what I know I'm supposed to achieve during those last fifteen minutes of yoga class. Here's an incomplete list:

-knitting
-running
-singing
-carving a pumpkin
-proofreading long, nontechnical articles
-tallying figures
-making lists
-vacuuming
-stretching
-driving on an empty, scenic road

When I try to determine what all of these activities have in common, I come up with two things: they are repetitious and they require moderate concentration. The key word in the latter characteristic being "moderate." So while adding up columns of numbers for me is pleasantly therapeutic because it requires attention and concentration but is not complicated, filling out a tax return or working through a word problem ("Two trains are coming at each other at different speeds...") is not. Likewise, driving on a country road or remote stretch of interstate is meditative; fighting traffic on La Cienega Boulevard during rush hour is not, because it requires intense concentration and is unpredictable.

Lately I've been hearing and reading (in everything from Newsweek to fiction) about the meditative qualities of knitting, and I can attest to those qualities now that I am an (admittedly novice) knitter myself. I've also heard and read about gardening as a meditative activity, and I could see how that would be true. I might like to take it up as a hobby once I own my own home.

What's intriguing is that it seems that current research indicates that meditative activities are beneficial for health. I've read a bit about super-healthy elderly people who regularly knit, or garden, or do crossword puzzles. The general gist seems to be that incorporating some meditative activities into one's life on a regular basis can contribute to both physical and mental health, which I think is neat. It's not often you hear that something enjoyable might also provide health benefits! (The recent exception being, of course, eating dark chocolate.)It'll be interesting to see where the research leads.