Michio Kushi

I let out an audible gasp this morning when I saw the obituary for Michio Kushi, the founder of the Kushi Institute, and a major influence in my life and health.

I attended my first macrobiotic conference at Babson College in 2008. Here I was introduced to a community which regarded the connection between what we ingest and how we feel with the utmost respect.

I had hired Gina Villalobos Paterno, a coach for macrobiotics, to walk me through a change of diet that became more plant-based and seasonally oriented. I dropped ten pounds–you know those ten pounds you’re always hoping to lose–evened out some of my body’s systems and never looked back. She introduced me to Michio and the conferences he presided over.

Eating macrobiotically has  become a way of life for me. It’s narrowed my choices. Where I used to meet a friend for an ice cream cone at Friendly’s back in the day, I’m more likely to agree to tea or a walk instead. In fact, eating things that weren’t good for me often kept me in less-than-healthy relationships. When you are fully conscious of what goes into your mouth, it’s harder to accept the unacceptable.

At home, I eat 100% this way. Out, I choose menu items that work for me. I love ethnic restaurants where rice, beans, vegetables and other grains are primary on the menu. Pizza has gone the way of the buggy whip for me, although occasionally I’ll have the pizza experience at Baba Louie’s in Great Barrington where they make a spelt pizza with soy mozzarella and omit the tomato sauce.

Michio, as everyone referred to him, spoke at every conference I attended. His message was always the same–that by eating this way: consciously and according to the season and climate–the world would be a more peaceful place. I can’t disagree.

I even had the extreme privilege of having a group reading with Michio. There were a dozen of us who had paid a fair price to be in his presence as he visually examined us, one by one, and told us what he saw. It would be hard to translate his words in a meaningful way (read his books for greater comprehension), but judging by the nods, the tears and the gratitude, he spoke truly and deeply to each of us about our “conditions.” He also gave advice, suggestions and tangible menu items to improve said conditions. I know, by the “recovery” panels–men and women who had terminal diagnoses, changed their diets and their worlds through macrobiotics–who shared their stories every year–that Michio’s worked not only changed lives, but saved thousands.

I’m sad for his passing and enriched by his life.