In my father's handwriting it said, "Shannon's songs".
It was a recording of me during a recital in college that I recorded for him and sent down to Florida.
Somehow I am in possession of the tape.
I stared at his very familiar handwriting that I have admired all my life, but what really hit me, very deep inside, was that at that moment in time, when he got the tape in the mail, he must have been so proud of me.
I was doing what he did when he was a young man. I was studying music at a conservatory and going through the recital and juries, just like he did a long time ago. But he must have had one little glimmer of hope and excitement in him when he heard that tape back then. He must have felt that I would be different than him.
I would actually make it. He really thought I would be on Broadway and charm the pants off of audiences and be really successful at something that he himself had no confidence to pursue. Instead, he fell back on his gifts as a designer and carpenter and designed and built sets for theatre many years before he got into teaching English. It was, to him, his biggest failure.
And now, I wonder, if I am not his biggest failure.
And this hurts so much.
As I seek out and talk to schools specializing in ballet about possible middle school options for my crazy talented daughter, I wonder how would it feel if she turned out just like me?
I didn't want what everyone thought I wanted. And just because things come easily for you, doesn't mean it is the obvious choice for you.
I am far happier today than I was 20 years ago, but my father never grasped that.
I don't think he ever really knew who I was because who I was was a singing, dancing and acting phenom.
What I was was an angry, sometimes violent and out of control girl. And that is who he knew too.
And he will never know me now.
Ever.
I tried to tell him what I am. The things I love and enjoy. The people I know and share with. The volunteering, the activism, the raising of my girls, the work I do on myself each and every god damned day just to feel okay.
But it never penetrated.
He would usually revert back to old ticks and memories and play the tape in his head of his lovely, fiery and talented daughter who he put all his hopes and dreams into. The girl who "couldn't be told a damned thing." The one who was a "dreamer not a doer."
My one wish with him was that before he died he would know who I am.
And now another dream won't come true.
I am in perpetual mourning and feel the dazed effects of shock.
I called my 86 year old father down in Florida today to convince my step mother to bring him up North one last time to say goodbye. See the Autumn. Hug his grandchildren. Feel the love.
I have known that my father was in steep decline since last December when he went into the hospital for a procedure on his prostate. He became disoriented on the the anesthesia and caught an untreatable case of pneumonia.
My sisters and I flew down in a panic thinking this was it. What it was was the beginning of the end for him.
He is weak in constitution and does not handle the elements well. Gets sick easily.
So, he came out of that one ok. We circled him with love and care and perked him up. Flew back home and got on with our lives...
So this is it for real. My step mum drops a little bomb on my village with the, "He was diagnosed with Alzheimers 2 year ago...I didn't believe it, I was in denial...(so I told no one)"
2 years.
All of his memories fading away in those two years and I had no idea. Instead I thought I had the luxury of time and chose to process some very intense feelings about the guy. I was licking my wounds and feeling resentful- which I don't regret. I was getting sick from his toxic energy that he would fling at me whenever he could. I had to pull back. Focus on why I am good. Why I deserve my life and the things that I enjoy. I was understanding me and who I was. What I am. I definitely cut strings.
But then a year and a half ago I decided to heal and try again with him because I could feel he was slipping. Could I tell he had Alzheimers? Was it instictive that my dad was not going to last into his 90s? So I visited a Shaman and got all of my black, negative energy towards him pulled out of my shockra. It's true- anger and bitterness only poisins you, not the ones you are angry with.
It worked. I was able to visit him last December during that scare without one panic attack. I had beautiful closure with him.
I apologized for not ever visiting him and he forgave me like parents only can do.
Without a hint of resentment he said, "Oh, that's alright, dear. You have a life with your own family. I understand."
There is something so sweet about him. He really has such a tender and kind way about him.
I was reminded in that simple gesture of forgiveness why I loved him so much.
When my mother left my father in 1978, I was 10. She wanted to take my sister and me with her, but my father pleaded with her to leave us with him. The story goes that he said, "I will die without them."
She relented and embarked on a career path and rarely looked back.
Dad made sure there were 2 hot meals on the table everyday and taught me the lesson that families need to eat together and share about their day. Dad encouraged me to sing and took me for my first ever voice lessons and drove me to them every Tuesday after school. He drove me to my auditions too. Came to every performance. He took me rollerskating and quietly read his book while disco blasted from the speakers and I attempted shoot the duck. He taught me how to drive a stick shift and let me watch Benny Hill with him. I remember seeing The Blue Lagoon, Coal Miner's Daughter, Amadeus and Raiders of the Lost Arc with my dad.
He always had time to talk and listen and told me I was the funniest story teller he had ever met. He taught me that women are beautiful (through obvious, unashamed ogling of them) and said I should never be ashamed of my curves.
He loved women. On the day I started my period when I was 14, he happily said, "Well I am so glad! We should throw a party for you!"
He loved having daughters and never, ever made innappropriate comments about wishing he had a son.
He preached about why Government was evil, God does not exist and why I need to prepare for another Depression.
He stood by my side when I was a rock n roll freak with 5 inch high hair and held my hand walking down the street until I was 16.
I have this simple gift laid before me.
I get to fly down to Florida and be with him and say bye.
He said on the phone today that he stares out the window everyday and thinks about passing over to another plane.
There are no athiests in foxholes.
I live in a semi remote neighborhood in Manhattan called Inwood- the very top of the island. It is the greenest part of the island and I have the good fortune to have an apartment right on a park, facing South. I can lie on my big bed and stare out the window and watch dogs play or listen to the birds and i feel like I am not in NYC. When this apartment lined up for us, I knew there was such a thing as the law of attraction because I had been wanting this very apartment for years. Our building is one of the few apartment buildings in NYC that is directly on a park, with no road or side walk between you and the park. I hear no street noise or pedestrian traffic. I am in the country.
Beyond that amazing luxury, I also happen to have lovely neighbors who I cherish. Friends that I have known quite a while whose children are growing up with mine. I am also fortunate enough to have a neighborhood school that my kids love and I love too and where some of these neighborhood kids go to too. How could this have happened here? In NYC? How did I hit the jackpot in this chaotic place?
I'll tell you how. I created it in my head first and then created it in my reality next.
I had my first child and craved a tribe. I lived in a different 'hood and felt so invisible and alone.
When we moved, I was completely emerged in a depression. I was lonely and sad about motherhood. My friends pre baby had not had kids yet and my world was lost to them.
So I thought about what I wanted and how badly I wanted people who were like me and parented with the same mindfulness.
It was a slow start because I was constitutionally weak and had no confidence.
But then i got pregnant with my second daughter and fortunately for me a pregnant belly was a good ice breaker.
slowly, I made friends up here. Eventually, I found the right blend of people to talk and laugh and think out loud with.
Years later, I have a huge tribe of people I call friends and a home I feel alive and centered in.
I am at a cross roads about what to imagine next.
Do I dive back into my make up career? Do I continue with my doula work? Should I study Shamanism and focus on my healing?
Or should I be available and present for my girls and their lives another year while I volunteer again at their school?
What shall I create for myself next?
You never know who you're going to run into in my park. Friends, old clients, frenemies- it's possible.
Today I ran into my Shaman.
She has helped me heal in a very holistic and complete way and it was lovely touching base with her and filling her in with what was up.
We sat in the grass and watched the picnickers and the children creating theater under a large, swaying tree.
Hours rolled by and it was time for dinner and heading home.
Our talk was mystical and deep and comforting.
We share so many unique ideas and values.
And she came into my life because I moved up here in Inwood and asked the universe for a healer who would accept me and help me.
Life is good when where you live is heaven on earth.
Isham Park, NYC
I have no idea why it is so huge. That's okay- it's nice to look at.
- Mood:
happy
I still feel great and I haven't returned to previous eating habits. Although I haven't made a fresh green juice all week, I have been eating a lot of fresh raw vegetables and have not had eggs, sugar, caffeine and a minimal amount of dairy and wheat/flour.
I can't believe I did 10 days and I am a little amazed I did it that long, but it was worth it. I went to my last and final colonic last Thursday. I woke up feeling the worst I had felt since breaking the detox. It was rainy and cold and my head was stuffy and I felt tired.
I am impressed with my lady who does these things: no shit can hide from her.
For a half an hour I was clean and dumping nothing out. She kept saying, "I know you have stuff up there, way up high at the beginning of your colon." I asked, "How do you know?" she said "I know."
She dumped a gallon of water in my colon and started to vigorously massage my abdomen up on my upper left side- where the colon/large intestine begins. And sure enough, a lot of waste was dislodged and I happily relieved it.
Afterward, I jumped up from the table feeling amazing.
All of my previous symptoms disappeared and I felt wonderful for the rest of the day.
I can't believe colonics work that well and that fast. I am a believer.
But there is a dark side.
I think the noticeable and strange presence of mind I have is that I am thinking about dying. I don't think I am dying now, I am just thinking about the end. The moment of death or going before you're ready. What is that like?
I am thinking about nothingness, the big black void that swallows us up after we die.
When I was a lonely little atheist kid, I used to make myself think about really scary scenarios (this is similar to my previous post where I mention I tend to punish myself to feel pain and misery) and I would often think about what death was like and what it would be like to not exist anymore and thus was the beginning of my anxiety attacks. I learned how to control my thoughts and I am very good at stopping the horrible thoughts that I used to welcome and turn over and over in my mind.
But now, I am allowing it to happen again and I actually had an anxiety attack on the A train Thursday. I really freaked a little. I was so scared of not existing anymore.
Thankfully, because I was a little lonely atheist kid, I am really good at soothing myself and calming myself down. I am my own mother.
So these are things I will be exploring. I will discuss this all with my Homeopath because I am totally in a state.
But I am not upset or scared that I am here at this place of obsessive thoughts again because it is all part of my deeper healing.
Like an onion I peel away each layer to discover my pure self.
The work I have to do on myself is never over. I always seek divine clarity.
My goal is to be a wise old crone someday.
My goal is to be queen witch of Inwood.
- Mood: good
I talked with my husband all morning in the kitchen while our girls watched TV.
I felt ready to break the detox. 10 days felt like enough. I knew I was ready because it was affecting my mood and outlook on life to the point of desperation and despair. I was not in the right head space, but I had learned a lot and gotten a lot out of this cleanse.
- I no longer snore
- or get up in the middle of the night to pee
- I am still off of caffeine and do not crash in midday
- I have no reaction to the weather/pollen
- no more headaches
- amazing energy
- clear thinking
- renewed faith is everything!
Mothers Day was wonderful. We went up to my oldest sister's home and celebrated family.
Everything is new again and since I have broken so many rituals, after the cleanse you sort of reorganize and decide which rituals you want and don't want. It makes life open and flexible- and I want that! So I haven't gone back to old habits because everything was broken 2 weeks ago.
I do have my last colonic Thursday. I will enjoy that one because what I miss most since ending the cleanse is my constant crapping.
- Mood: jubilant
I made it through, I persevered!
I ranted and raved and bitched on here, to my family, to myself. I let it out!
And the next day, I was all better. I felt good and I was hopeful the whole day would be ok. I was just shooting for ok.
I went for my colonic and weighed myself before the procedure and I weighed 133lbs! YAY!
The funny thing is, I weighed myself after the colonic and I weighed 131lbs. !!!!!
You mean, even though I haven't had solid food for a week, I have had one colonic and one enema I still have 2 pounds of shit inside of my colon? Oh my god. That is good to know.
I really felt so good yesterday. I am now in the part of the detox where my body has adjusted to the calories, the drinks, the regimen.
I bounced home from the appointment with a new bag of veggies and made an Italian flavored soup: fennel, tomato, leek, garlic, broccoli and basil. And I liked it.
I got all fancy and put on my make up and went out with friends from my college to see a friend of ours in Rock of Ages on Broadway and had the best time. I never felt hungry or tired or tempted. Everything clicked and I released fears into the air. I knew I'd be ok.
Today is going great too. I got home at 1:00am and slept until 6:30am and feel good. Amazing. Never would have happened in the past.
It doesn't mean I won't grab a nap today, but my mind feels clear and I don't have my usual nausea and headache when I under sleep.
I'm so happy I didn't quit.
And I'm so happy for all of the wonderful people in my life.
- Mood: pleased
I need them because I think I want to quit tomorrow.
I had the worst day. First let me describe what I think is going on with my body. I believe I am in my "healing crisis" which is when my cells have dumped the stored toxins into my bloodstream and now they are going into my organs. A healing crisis is a normal byproduct of any detox. You feel fluish, sick and very tired and sometimes achy. With this regimen I can help my organs get rid of these toxins through my skin, urine and poop. I already have done many things to help this process along which is detailed in my earlier posts.
And it was doable. Livable. Possible even.
But today I feel awful.
I felt tired, cold and dizzy all day. I eventually slept for 2 1/2 hours and woke up like a bear. I had slept during the time I usually prep my soup which I need for dinner or I am screwed.
I had nothing. And I was pissed.
So I woke up hungry and upset, not rested and replenished. And that's when I felt ready to give up.
And I was doing well today in terms of attitude.
I was speaking with a dear friend, who also happens to be my Homeopath, about this process and felt truly grounded. I talked about the spiritual process of releasing old garbage and welcoming in new changes and good, healthy things into my life. I talked to her about why I decided to do this. It reaffirmed my commitment.
That was at 9:30 this morning.
By dinner it's all too much and I resent the discipline. Shocker. (I hate discipline because I've never had it.)
This detox unnerves me at every angle! And because I didn't feel great today, it made it worse- like talking about finances the other day. Every discomfort is magnified times 100.
So I said to my husband, "That's it! 8 day detox and I'm done!"
I am going for my 2nd colonic tomorrow and I will get support and advice from her.
Then I will go to a healthfood store called The Westerly on 53rd and 8th and get a green juice and go home. It is then I will assess my future.
I will decide tomorrow if I am continuing on with this detox.
Sorry folks. I do not adjust to change well at all. I am doing my best. I am trying to do this. It gets bleak. Why is everything so fucking intense for me?
I hope clarity and happiness are mine tomorrow.
Peace.
- Mood:
bitchy
Why do I think this? Because look at me! I am nourished. I am not hungry. I feel good. I am sleeping and pooping well! Everything is going great but it is my tongue that is causing me problems. We Americans can eat foods that satisfy the needs of our taste buds and then immediately feel horrible. Bloated, acid reflux, gas, irritable bowels - name it! We suffer for our food. I am so guilty of this.
Eating pizza is one of my favorite foods, but it makes me really bloated, sleepy and gassy. I actually crash a little from the high of chewing it it.
I am a slave to my mouth- the experience of taste, texture and chewing are the reasons why so many of us are fat!
It isn't because we're hungry. It's because we love the way it feels and tastes in our mouth. Like little babies on the breast, we are orally tactile.
I know this today because I wasn't hungry at all. I was satisfied with everything I drank- I was not vulnerable and I felt very good too.
The opposite of how I feel any given day when I am not on this detox.
And yet! I want more! I want the taste, texture and to bite into my food. It is primal.
This is my little discovery of how deep it goes. It isn't just about being hungry or feeling full or anything else than our fucking tongues over power every other organ on or in our bodies. Yes, even that one too.
Is this obvious to all of you?
Well it wasn't to me until now. I thought oral pleasure (sorry) may be part of it, but I thought it also had to do with stuffing feelings, avoiding difficult topics in our lives, past resentments. But ultimately, at the top of the pyramid is our tongue! And she rules us all!
As I said, it was a good day. Daughter # 1 is still sick and I toiled away doing odd jobs while she slept or watched Hairspray on HBO.
I found a way to really enjoy the Berry drink, yet again! Dilute it further and add a lot of lemon. It tastes like pink lemonade now. And there are rituals starting for me on this detox I look forward to- like juicing and making fresh vegetable soups.
And boy, I am in my kitchen a lot.
That sucks.
And time creeps by so slowly.
What's the rush? I don't know. I guess everything will be perfect when I'm done.
Marcela says, "It's the journey not the destination." Right-o!
Be here now.
Mantra, shmantra, I want all of the things I never really ate anyway!!
Top 5 things I thought I'd miss, but don't:
- coffee
- ice cream
- chocolate
- cereal
- milk
Top 5 things I crave, which surprises me:
- buffalo wings
- nachos
- tacos
- sloppy joes
- burgers
Ewww. That list is really gross but it's honest. And I know that as soon as I would eat it, I'd feel awful. Which is why I am on this thing to begin with (among other reasons). This process sucks.
But so do all things that are difficult and sometimes painful that have high rewards:
- childbirth
- climbing a mountain
- running a marathon
- finishing a doctorate
- building something from scratch
- Mood:
cold
Reading on a black background has its hardships so I am trying to make it easy on the eyes.
I couldn't have gotten through today without Marcela. She was so helpful and really put my mind at ease. I am accepting my reaction to this as normal even though I feel like a wuss. I am following it to the T, but my attitude can really bring me down.
Advice for those who are curious in trying a detox- while on the detox don't discuss serious issues with your spouse.
I was feeling very good this morning. I made my green tea, drank my berry drink and got my 5 year old ready for school. As an aside, Jeff slept in after a long heinous night of caring for our 9 year old who puked OVER both sides of her bunk bed (we cleaned it up at 2:00am) and then subsequently puked every hour until dawn. Poor baby. My husband and daughter were wiped out all day.
Anyway, my energy was good, my jeans felt comfortable for a change and I had a positive attitude- this was good!
Then in mid-morning we started talking money and finances and it really got intense and stressful and it affected my physical feeling. It was then I realized that normally I would walk out of the room and pour a cup of coffee or grab something to eat or prep for a meal- some distraction to deal with reality. I used food as a distraction. And I really felt it during this serious talk about our home finances and budget.
I had nowhere to run.
So the rest of the morning dragged on and I felt defeated by my hopeless hunger and the impossibility of this goal.
I asked my husband to go grocery shopping because I cannot do it.
And I went into the kitchen and started making my soup: red cabbage, onion, leeks, carrots,garlic, broccoli, kale, swiss chard, sweet potato and collard greens. I kept the spices simple this time. I then juiced my second drink and this time made a suicidal concoction of watercress, green beans, spinach, carrots, collards and kale. It was so bitter. But I have strange suffer fetish where I deeply feel that I deserve to suffer to feel what real discomfort is like and I will do these things to punish myself. Terrible, right?
Once I was driving back to NYC from Western PA after my girlfriend's funeral and I had to kinda pee before I left for the 5 hour trip. Instead of taking care of myself, I held it the whole way.
I was sad and deeply upset by the death of my friend I decided to suffer for the whole ride. I almost pulled over on the side of 95 right before the GWB because I just could not hold it any longer. But I didn't stop and I could hold it. And I proved that I can take it.
So I drank the disgusting juice and felt proud that I did.
But still. I was lost.
What if I quit? Who cares?
I called Marcela, my good friend who has done this many times. I needed a mentor. Just like I reread the detox book yesterday, I now needed to phone a friend. I am so glad I did.
Her words of wisdom rang true for me and she validated every hurdle in this process so that I didn't feel so alone.
What resonated, among many things, was that after the fast is over, the food you crave during the detox? Not so appetizing or satisfying after the detox when you can eat again. So it's a head game! My mind is making me think I want all of that food while my body actually wants the vegetables and good nutrition. Ah-ha! So post detox, according to Marcela, you really crave veggies because your body has, for lack of a better word, muscle memory. This really made sense and helped my jealousy of all those chewers! (you know who you are!)
It's like being in a desert and seeing an oasis, a mirage.
I am hallucinating and fantasizing about burgers, lasagna, cheese and bagette, guacamole, pizza, salads and Chipotle Cafe!
But what makes me feel good is what I am doing right now.
I actually do feel quite good!
I took my 5 year old to ballet and did not step foot in the gourmet markets below the studio. Instead I read and had nice personal time. I got home and my soup was perfect. Absolutely delicious!
This made my day.
Lessons learned.
Now I am off for my salt bath.
- Mood: good
Went to bed last night starving and woke up fine. No hunger pains at all so I think my body is adjusting to the 400 or so calories a day I take in.
I made an appointment with some random spa I found online for what is called a mineral/herbal body wrap. This detox calls for all methods of detoxification which includes colonics, enemas, lymphatic massage, dry brush scrubbing of the skin, saunas, salt baths and body wraps. This is great for me because I love a good spa treatment. I went to shangri-la day spa on w. 72nd St. because the buzz was good on City Search and the prices were good! And they had an immediate appointment open for Sunday morning.
http://www.shangri-ladayspa.com/
The place was weird in that it was the lady's apartment, but she had made it tranquil and peaceful and it had a home-spun vibe. The woman was Tibetan and had lovely tapestries and decorations from India and a shrine to the Dalai Lama. The place was really clean too.
The body wrap consisted of , first, a dry brush of my skin. On my naked body. This woman had no fears or pretense about what had to be done. She rolled down my towel as I lay on the table and brushed my chest, belly, legs and arms. Flip. Back, legs, arms. Usually spas are beyond careful not to ever see you naked so I was surprised by how matter of fact she was about how nakedness was normal and required for this treatment.
Next, she went to her kitchen and got the towels for the wrap out of, what I imagine, a huge cauldron filled with boiling water, Chinese herbs and essential oils. she said to me, "You said you were doing detox so I made it extra strong." Cool! Bring it on!
She place plastic sheets on the table (just so you know we are in the dark with just one candle flickering in the corner) and then pulls on a pair of heavy duty rubber gloves and brings out the towels from a pot on the floor and places the folded hot towels onto the table and unwraps them. Two huge ones in all laid steaming on the table and she instructed me to sit back on the table so she can wrap me up. She picked up the side of the towel and tucked under my far leg and then did the other side.
It smelled wonderful and felt so warm and good. She swaddled me like a baby and then wrapped the plastic sheets around me and then three heavy blankets. She asked if I was cozy and I purred "yessss" so she left me to sweat and relax.
It was heaven.
And I had an epiphony while lying there that this is why I will live to be 100. Taking care and getting pampered really does something for your body and soul. It is indulgent and incredibly gratuitous in these times, but absolutely essential for well-being and stress reduction and management. I could feel myself go to a place in my head that was spiritual and ambiguous yet very peaceful. Maybe I was meditating.
I wasn't sleeping, but I was in an heightened state of mind.
The woman came back ever 10 minutes to see if I was okay and then offered to massage me for 30 minutes for an addition $20.00.
I said yeah! and got a glorious rub down and foot massage.
This woman said something sweet during the massage. She said, "I have had the same prices for 10 years because if you're expensive people won't come and get treatments. If people don't get treatments, how can you heal the world?"
Right.
And I feel healed.
My energy has been good and the cravings were manageable today.
I reread parts of the detox book later today for inspiration and I am glad I did!
It helps remind me that all of my feelings are normal. It's about finding the balance and tuning in to your body to find out when it needs nutrients. I see clearly how disconnected my husband is- he isn't mindful at all because his ritual and habits haven't been erased.
I have to slow down because if I don't I can be blind-sighted with severe hunger. I have to be mindful every moment of how my body is doing and am I feeling nourished. The book's testimonials were very helpful today and it felt as though I turned a corner.
Tomorrow may be different.
- Mood: relaxed
I do these things because I like testing my outer limits and this is a great way to see what I am made of.
And by the way, I love childbirth analogies.
It has helped me get through so many difficult times to remember the strength and perseverance it took to give birth.
And today was no different.
I am glad it is Saturday and that my husband is home and i can rely on him for support and help. And he was/is wonderful.
He was interested in what I needed to do and drank the veggies drinks with me. And on top of that he worked around the house like crazy!
So amazing.
So in the morning I was really up. Around 10:30am I did my first ever enema. And it was a coffee enema at that. I had to boil organic coffee for 15 minutes, cool it down and then stick a tube in my ass and flush the coffee up in there.
WHOAH!
I got so high from the caffeine and felt awesome for hours.
The enema was not bad at all and it may, in fact, have been my favorite part of the day.
The crash came when we all took a nice walk down to our farmer's market at around noon. I was looking for whatever seasonal green veggies they might have right now. And of course they didn't because it is too early.
So I am strolling past the turkey sausage samples and the fresh sea food and usually on Saturdays at the farmer's market I am planning dinner in my head and buying yummy stuff for later.
So this hit me like a black, lead-weighted cloud.
I grew hungry and sad and felt what's the use?
Even though my pants felt looser and my husband said I look sexy and "clearer", it couldn't lift me out of my nostalgia for food.
Last Wednesday's dinner, a chicken cordon bleu panini, was a year away.
What was it like to taste nutty and fruity cheese?
Or savory sausage and a fresh farm egg?
My husband remained strong and supportive and it got me through.
But this is really hard.
Could it be I am lonely without meals?
Does food make me happy?
Does this enjoyment sometimes make me over indulge which thereby made me overweight?
Yes, yes and yes.
The first half of the day is easier than the second.
So I have to figure out how to make this easier at dinner time.
Third day done.
One day at a time.
- Mood: melancholy
I need to write about it because it is weird to not chew. I know I am not the first to do a diet detox, but this is big for me.
I slept really well lastnight and woke up without feeling too bad.
I made a cup of green tea and stared at the wall until I felt more awake- it was hard without the potent shot of strong coffee that I am used to.
I then drank down the "green" drink with distilled water. OH! I never told you that I have to drink distilled water during this. Tap water has a lot of chemicals and to drink distilled it really gives your body a rest from processing chemicals. And it is very good- clean tasting, in fact.
the walk to school was fine. I felt spacey and weird.
When I got home I got organized! Usually, and this is an old habit, I do a list of chores before I feed myself. Then by 11:30am I am scarfing down eggs, sausage and toast. Or I hold off until a proper lunch and the same thing: I eat it really fast.
With this detox it is imperative to put your nutritional needs first.
You can't not fortify yourself or you will crash and burn- almost like what it was like when I was pregnant. But when I was pregnant I was putting the baby's needs first. Today, I put my needs first.
I used for the first time my brand new beautiful juicer!
And it was amazing and the juice tasted like LIFE itself! Amazing flavors I never cared to notice before.
The juice was:
1 apple
1 carrot
3 stalks of celery
1 cucumber
4 leaves of kale
And that was breakfast!
I had a big burst of pure energy and cleaned the living room etc.
Then I got hungry again. My metabolism is ripping through this program so I have to be ready to keep drinking what I am allowed like tea, water, "green" drink, berry powder drink and veggie broth.
I reluctantly mixed up a berry drink- which I loath. But this time I strained it and it was SO much better. So that saved me. I felt my energy and hope come back. I can do this- just keep the water and nutrients coming. I have to be on top of this. It is a new rhythm I must get used to and i find it is becoming very zen. The cutting of the veggies, the care of the juicer and the straining of the hideous gritty powder drinks- all of it has a peaceful rhythm to it.
So back in the kitchen I was and I started to assemble veggies for my soup tonight and put it in the slow cooker. I am gonna try Indian flavors tonight so it will have curry, tamarind, cumin and coriander in the broth.
I also heated up left over broth from last night and drank that. It was even better than last night- it really became so flavorful. The cooked veggies from that soup got put in the blender and pureed thin- like baby food. I slowly ate it. SLOWLY, people! I was so relaxed and aware of my needs. And because I was being really mindful, I didn't even finish it. I was feeling full and satisfied.
It had the consistency of a creamed/pureed broccoli soup. It was wonderful.
I finished with an enzyme capsule and iced herbal tea.
Before my shower I am supposed to dry brush my skin with a natural fiber brush- which, BTW, feels really good.
Your skin glows and looks new.
Off to the shower I went feeling really okay.
One day at a time.
I will be open to this new experience.
I welcome the new lessons about myself I am bound to learn and I am grateful for the bounty of the earth.
I am having an affair with veggies. They are my new love!
I now have a meeting at my daughter's school and then it's a rush down to the Upper West Side to ballet.
I'm gonna hit up Fairway for some items I have blown through like onion, celery and I want to find seaweed or kelp to add to my soups.
If you are curious what I am doing, here is the link to the website. This is for clarity- this is not an advertisement.
www.mvdietdetox.com
Thank you for reading! check back tonight to see how the rest of my day went. If I get to the Blog...if not, see you tomorrow.
- Mood: hopeful
It was a lot harder than I expected because I had a shitty attitude this morning.
I wanted the coffee.
I wanted an egg sandwich.
But I drank my green juice and took my enzymes and went to my colonic. That in itself was inspiring because I never knew how much poop stays trapped in your bowels! But there I was, lying on my back with a steady stream of water going into my ass via a small tube and out came tons of muck that must have been in there for a long time. How old is that poop anyway? From childhood?
When did my body stop eliminating efficiently? It felt good, it felt odd. Good in that who doesn't like a good shit? And an hour-long shit to boot! Odd because I do not do these things in front of other people with the exception of my daughters and my big sister. Weird, but it's true. It happens sometimes.
Anyway, when the colonic was over I felt amazing. I felt light, energetic and maybe it was in my mind, but my corduroys fit more comfortably.
I loved my "colon therapist" too- she made me laugh and feel at ease. Her room was decorated with nice tapestries from India and Mexico and she had posters on the wall pointing out the Chakras. All very new age yet NYC too.
The rest of the day had moments of boredom and despair. I missed chewing. And I really missed a variety of flavors. As I pointed out yesterday, it is a lot of green veggies and one hideous "berry" drink from a powder and that's it.
I can use spices in my baby-food style soups, but I bought fresh strawberries today for the kids and how do you replace that taste and texture? You don't.
So I sought refuge with my friend Marcela who is on day 8 of her detox and sympathetically commiserated with how starting off is very hard.
She said, "It's a process! We have so many emotions around food so of course you are going feel all of these emotions today."
And then she told me it gets better.
Take it one day at a time.
So here is to tomorrow and finding the strength to get through another day of not chewing.
- Mood: complacent
I went away, discouraged that I would never get the hang of this Blog thing.
I am not a writer or a philosopher. I am not a critic nor am I a town crier.
So why do I want or need to Blog?
Well, I guess I just have to put things down and send it on out there. I am back to try again.
And this time I will be talking about my Diet Detox.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a die-hard Howard Stern fan. I followed him to Sirius and listen every day.
I have been inspired to try a juice detox that his co-host, Robin, did and still does called the Martha's Vineyard Diet Detox.
What you do is totally eliminate everything that can create toxins in your system: sugar, breads, processed foods, caffeine, alcohol- you name it, you cannot eat it. A matter of fact, you can't eat at all. It is a chew-free, complete juice and broth diet...for 21 days.
You can choose a shorter detox, but it won't really clean out your colon, gall bladder, kidneys and liver. That takes 21 days. And the pay off, besides gorgeous skin, a clear mind, more energy and better poops is you loose a lot of weight.
I don't have a scale, but I am guessing I weigh 138lbs.
I would really love to be down to 120.
It may be yucky skinny, but I really want to be in a bikini just in time to surprise my husband on his 40th birthday this July.
I started Pilates too, which I will put on hold until this detox is over, so the flab will become fab!
Anyway, where am I going with this?
I am feeling sad about saying goodbye to coffee for a while.
Or a good sandwich. I know it isn't forever, but it feels like forever when you're staring down a 3 week diet of fresh green veggie juice and gritty powder supplements. My cynical New Yorker friends remind me of how, "I could never do it!"
and "You're giving up coffee and wine? Oh my GOD!"
And the thought of making dinner every night for my chewing family makes me bitter.
But alas, I love a good challenge and I love finding out what I can do when I put my mind to it.
I want better health and a clearer thought process.
I want less weight on my frame and my libido back!
So this is my day tomorrow (I must share because I need support even though I know no one is reading this):
7:00am Wake up, drink "gritty" Green drink, herb tea and 8 oz. of water and an herbal cleanser (like dandelion tincture)
9:00am antioxidant berry drink and another herb tea
10:00am get a clonic
11:00am drink a fresh veggie juice, take enzyme capsule, more herbal cleansing formula and 8 oz. of water
1:00pm 8oz of water, "gritty" green drink, herb tea
3:00pm berry drink again
5:00pm 1 cup of soup broth (all veggie and vegan), i cup of herb tea, more cleansing formula and 8 more oz. of water.
7:00pm tea and water
night time: aloe vera
As you can see, I will be promoting good pooping. The herbal cleansing formula is supposed to make me crap and clean everything out.
Okay, that just overwhelmed me. Not the poop, but the schedule above.
You see, I want the results without the work. Without the sacrifice! I want a hot, tight, skinny bod without any change in my current habits. Is that unreasonable?
Off to bed now. I'll let you know how day one goes tomorrow.
I logged on and started typing. I am tired and I am punchy. Jane Agnes, my darling 4 1/2 year old, is still suffering from abdominal pain.
It comes and it goes and it hits her like a Mack truck. No other symptoms. Hmmph.
Feeling pissy about Hillary coming to the end of her possibly being the next president. I don't want to believe that she lost her grip on the nomination. It was in the bag! All the white dudes gloating on CNN makes me sick. One dude said, "She is difficult to work with."
It hits me so deep when people aren't even aware they are being sexist. It is as evident as natural gas in the air and yet all year she was hit with one insult after another. No one does a thing. Anyway, I wish I could give a thoughtful political analysis of everything, but I am numb and a little over thinking about the Democratic nominee. Let's just get this Bush white house out.
I made kick ass meatballs, however. Despite the sick little girl, writhing on my floor, I made delicious meatballs. Oh, and I saw our very own mouse today too. We have a mouse. Yep. Saw it.
Oh my Goddess. This is pathetic. But that is fine because no one knows this Blog exists!! Haha!
My passion for dance has been restored.
I have been turned on by Bravo's first season of Step it up and Dance (SIU&D). The show's finale will be next week and it is a little late for me to start telling people to get on top of this and watch this TV show, but I am so energized by how creative and beautiful this show is.
The format is the same as Top Chef (TC), another one of my favs, so I already am comfortable with the format.
But it touches me the way Project Runway (PR) does: I am so inspired by the artistry of young freaks.
Nobody can hold a candle to the talented freaks on PR and calling the people on SIU&D freaks is very inaccurate, but I guess I use that word to convey how unusual it is to see people so connected to their bodies and to movement and music that they devote their life to the chorus line and dinner theatre circuit. The contestants are actually lovely people who live for dancing. And I root for all of them! I want all of them to make it because they're all likable.
Whoever cast this show did an exceptional job. Just like TC and PR, they go for the talent not the drama queens. I love Bravo's reality shows because it is a showcase for talent that I envy and covet.
And this show allows someone like my husband see behind the scenes what it takes to choreograph a piece and how difficult it is. Our oldest daughter loves dance and is very good. I see how this show brings a richer context for both of them as they see everything that goes into learning different types of styles of dance and how each dancer is unique with their own set of skills and strengths.
The payoff, the performance on the main stage, really is exciting. You have watched the dancers throughout the process and now you can sit back and see the performance. The judges feedback is not watered down in laymen terms either- this show is for all the theatre fags and their hags who know exactly what they're talking about- and I am one of those hags! And I love it! My hag has been revived.
I love Bravo for that reason too! Oh my Goddess, Bravo has the gays. And being a stay at home mom of 2 girls, I have no chance of ever being a mom to a gay son, but more than that, no social life with my gay cohorts anymore. So Bravo scratches that itch.
Last night's show belonged to Nick Drago , who looks exactly like a Roman soldier (as one of the judges pointed out).
He is straight, I think (he could have excellent skills as passing as straight, but I doubt it) and he has come the farthest with his dancing.
Nick used to be in "elimination group" basically every week until about 3 weeks ago he turned the corner. His other only straight competition, Cody, stand out because the judges love masculine dancing. Something I have learned from watching this, don't look too fem while dancing- you will not be marketable! So Cody is technique driven and gorgeous with execution while Italian, loud, goofy tawking Nick keeps getting the notes to "emote" and "connect to the music; to what you're feeling." Hey, he just keeps going with the flow, doing his very best and tries his hardest without over-thinking it.
Cody isn't so simple. He is quiet and sensitive and every note goes to his core, which we found out last night is very damaged and bruised from serious and sad life struggles. A note from one judge calling Cody "snobbish" devastated and really hurt him.
But those feelings never bubble to the surface and present themselves in his dancing.
He just remains composed and controlled.
So Nick shined like a penny last night and really blew me away. I thought of his work all day today. I thought of all of their work actually and am glad I DVR'd it so I can watch it again with my daughters.
I am inspired to go to a dance class again! Yes, I am. I want to move too. Feel the music. Sweat and stretch.
I remember those classes, 20 years ago, when I was good. I did well. I felt great and looked great.
I am always appreciative of any TV show that can really create good stuff.
Mad Men, Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, Project Runway and now my new favorite:
Step it up and Dance.
When Win was born, I was a sophomore in college in Boston and had no inkling of what it meant to be an Aunt. But like any member of my family, I felt connected to and very fond of my little nephew. I marveled at how much this little boy looked exactly like Kurt Cobain, which was cool at the time. I know now that my sister needed me to validate his presence more, but I was too young and too self centered.
I feel a sense of loss now when I see him. All those years that I was off doing my NYC, single and lost phase while he was growing up and figuring out his path. I went to a few baseball games, talked to my sister about his Tae Kwon Do tournaments, stashed his school pictures in a drawer not fully understanding how transformative it was for my sister. Then of course, I had a baby and then another one and I was seeking wisdom from my her. How did she do this with no one to guide her? The first month my daughter was here, I thought I had the schedule down and I remember talking to her on the phone about her sleeping and eating and she said to me, "It will all change in a week so don't get used to it."
And that just sums up all of this.
He has changed so much. Gone is the boy who got so emotional over hurt feelings. Gone is the approachable little kid. Gone is the vast amount of time I had to bond with him. I am not naturally drawn to kids anyway. I like my own, but other people's kids do not endear me. Same goes for my nephew. But now I see him about to go off to college and I want to have that relationship with him where I can say to him, "Get off the pot, kid. WTF?" But how dare I? I was high while he learned how to ride a bike. Yet, I still feel this need to protect him. It's time for the Aunties to fly around him and wave their wands and say, "Enough!"
His smoking bugs me.
It really does.
He isn't that little guy anymore who was such a health nut; who told me to stop smoking. He isn't that little guy anymore who used to cuddle inside my sister's curves or play with her long hair or dress up in dresses and wigs.
He is a little more removed, quiet and high.
He is happy. He has a nice girlfriend, a bright future and a big family that loves him.
I am just catching up with the times. Shaking my head at the teenager.
This bug was absolutely ginormous. I am no stranger to water bugs, but this bug had his wings open slightly and it was at least 4 inches WIDE and about 6 inches long. Even my cat got a closer look and ran away and hid in the bedroom.
I screamed, ran away too and boycotted dinner. The kitchen was left looking like a crime scene, everything left in its place with no explanation as to why it was left.
I immediately called my husband, who works in CT.
He laughed and scoffed at the size I described and assured me it was fine!
I told him he needs to get home pronto and kill this bug. Of course he manned-up and rose to the challenge.
He came home 2 hours later. The was meat sweaty and warm on the counter, celery wilted and spent next to it. He looked in the kitchen and said, "so there's no dinner?" and I told him not until that bug is found and killed.
He got out of his work clothes and put on hunting clothes: sweat shorts and a tee with rubber gloves and a dust pan for squashing.
My daughters bravely stayed with him, screaming on cue at any anticipation of a bug jumping out at them.
I told him where to look and he said, in a condescending tone, "Well, if he is as big as you say he is, he wouldn't fit behind the shelf."
So minutes pass and nothing.
Jeff painstakingly removed item after item from the shelves to find this water bug.
Finally my oldest daughter said, "Look up over there." pointing to our upper shelf on the other side of the kitchen. So, Jeff took a stool and climbed up there to take a look. He pulled a Igloo cooler from the the wall and yelled, "WHOAH!"
I heard it from the bedroom.
"Oh my GOD!" he yelled.
The girls shrieked! Bedlam ensued while the bug sat there and waited for the inevitable doom.
But most gratifying was that I was right. Who's screaming like a little bitch now?
It took two strokes of the dust broom and the big bug was dead - and decapitated.
They all circled around the dead bug to ponder it's extreme mutant proportions.
And we all agreed: mommy was right- it was the biggest water bug we have ever seen.
Instead of meatballs, we had to settle for linguine with garlic and butter.
- Mood:
blah
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