Another thing I decided after my MS diagnosis was that I should pay more attention to my diet. I should become conscious of what I eat. This is not to say that I have changed the diet itself, but only that I take more definite note of the things that go into my mouth and down my gullet. It has actually heightened the pleasure to be had in partaking.
We should all be more conscious of the simple things. After all, you don't eat when you're in the grave, but rather are eaten--which are two totally different things. In addition, one does not have the opportunity to be conscious of the latter (or hopefully so, anyway).
Whereas a hunk of ice cream covered with chocolate syrup seemed once nothing more than an indistinct blob, a matter of little purport on its own, the same has now become a miniature universe of untold wonders, such that I spend more time admiring the thing on its way to my mouth than I do with actually clamping down my jaws and imbibing. For this reason, I have begun to lose weight--what with the time spent on scrutinizing rather than swallowing--but that is all in all a good thing, as I could stand to lose a few 10 or 15 pounds.
When was the last time you truly watched as a butter horn, skewered just so upon your fork, arose from its plate to make its journey to your tongue--this elegant dance of cause and effect, intention and target, beginning and end (for the butter horn, that is).
Have you ever just stopped to purely observe what a pork chop will do when left to its own devices?
Food for its own sake--the very foundation of diet. To begin at the beginning is my maxim nowadays. Be the buttermilk cruller, be the buffalo wing. All the rest (by which I mean the dietary particulars as they pertain to good health) will fall into place by and by.