Aha! It was just as I suspected, last night's funk was little more than an emotional detox. OK, so maybe I had no idea what was going on between my ears yesterday, but I feel worlds better this morning. I mean really stellar. Thank heaven's I didn't do anything rash. I would have missed out on the most fantastic morning, I've had in a month of Sundays. TODAY TOTALLY KICKS ASS AND CALLS IT SALLY.
Or something like that.
My favorite lucky breakfast is canteloupe, watermelon, and grapes. But I've been too busy to make a trip to Whole Foods, so I've been relying on the deli across 42nd for my supplies. Sometimes they have watermelon, sometimes they have grapes. Occasionally they will have canteloupe AND grapes. Today? All freaking three. Angel choirs sang when I gazed upon that fruit salad bar this morning. Golden Jesus Beams radiated from the heavens.
Yesterday my job site was a pile of tears, heartbreak, and failure to me. Today? We're shouting it out and it's getting done. I love constructive shouting. This is not arbitrary, abusive, ass-reaming. This is two parties with equally valid points squaring off and raising their voices to the fucking skies until the matters resolved. And then you crack a joke or two, break some balls to signal the end of the dispute and everybody walks away content. It's deeply cathartic and a shitload of fun. (Unless you're on the losing end of the conflict, which I NEVER am). Ha.
What freaking happened to me last night while I was sleeping? Was I Jedi Mind Tricked and I didn't know it? Did the On Demand episode of Rome I was watching hypnotize me into a positive headspace? I'm not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I'll just take this fabulous morning where I look completely adorable, and run with it. It's pretty staggering how much an attitude change can alter your reality. Like, whoa.
And to all those beloved souls who reached out and held me together through my dark night of the soul, it made all the difference in the world. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.
xo
Ing-ee-nue
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Wow. I REALLY hate being an Alcoholic today.
Alright, I know I'm a drunk. My body doesn't respond to alcohol the same way a "normal drinker's" would, and because of that I CANNOT DRINK SAFELY. Horrible, wiley, petulant things just happen to me when I'm drinking, and so I cannot. Can't be done. Tried that, didn't work. So why, why, oh sweet jesus, why am I STILL longing to be able to stuff my face with shots at Happy Hour with my Bosses?
Because I am a freaking Alcoholic and part of that is craving something I can never imbibe again. Although last night, I seriously considered cashing in my 1 year and some month chips for a one day coin that I could collect with my shiny happy hangover at a later date.
I DID go out with some workfolk last night and while the night in itself was unremarkable, the spiritual hangover I have this morning is threatening to derail the little bit of sober sanity I've put together. I usually bristle at meetings when oldtime AA's decribe our sort as "crazy" or "insane" but today, I know exactly what they mean. Only a truly batshit crazy woman would come out of the kind of alcoholic wreckage that I have and consider going back for any reason. And the reasons I want to go back are ill advised at best.
I miss drama. I miss self destructive flings that hurt more than they please. I miss hotel rooms with crisp white sheets and married men between them. I miss fuck me heels and smeared mascara. I miss whiskey breath. I miss beer tears. I miss the miserable and cocky little girl that I was, and I'm afraid of the women I'm growing into. I am freaking grieving for my drunkeness like I've just lost a parent. Probably more since neither of my parents are really that stellar about showing up when their needed. But you know who has ALWAYS been there for me? Jamesons! And now I've divorced him and I can't help but wonder if it wasn't a horrible, horrible mistake.
You know transformation is such a terribly long and tricky process that it's no wonder I'm feeling lost in the shuffle right about now. Some years back I lost 60 pounds. I think it took two years when all was said and done. But there would frequently come times when after a 3 pound weight loss that I HAD FOUGHT FOR, I'd look at my new body and think, "What the hell good has that done me?" My knockers were limp, my stomach gathered in these weird ruffles above my brazillian. It wasn't a linear process, is what I'm saying, and I spent more time in between sizes, swimming in ill fitting clothes than I did prancing around in tiny bikini's.
But now, years later when I've been an enviable size and shape for quite some time, I hardly ever think back to that long, protracted era of EXTREME PHYSICAL DISCOMFORT. I only reap the benefits. I feel like this is what's going on in my sobriety right now. I'm too far into my transformation to turn around, and I'm not far enough to see the light at the end of this fucking birth canal.
So, uhh, yeah, day 8 of the detox is clearly bringing some repressed emotions front and center. *grins sheepishly*
It's all good. I'm off to catch a meeting and share my little irish ass off. Good luck and God speed friends.
-I
Because I am a freaking Alcoholic and part of that is craving something I can never imbibe again. Although last night, I seriously considered cashing in my 1 year and some month chips for a one day coin that I could collect with my shiny happy hangover at a later date.
I DID go out with some workfolk last night and while the night in itself was unremarkable, the spiritual hangover I have this morning is threatening to derail the little bit of sober sanity I've put together. I usually bristle at meetings when oldtime AA's decribe our sort as "crazy" or "insane" but today, I know exactly what they mean. Only a truly batshit crazy woman would come out of the kind of alcoholic wreckage that I have and consider going back for any reason. And the reasons I want to go back are ill advised at best.
I miss drama. I miss self destructive flings that hurt more than they please. I miss hotel rooms with crisp white sheets and married men between them. I miss fuck me heels and smeared mascara. I miss whiskey breath. I miss beer tears. I miss the miserable and cocky little girl that I was, and I'm afraid of the women I'm growing into. I am freaking grieving for my drunkeness like I've just lost a parent. Probably more since neither of my parents are really that stellar about showing up when their needed. But you know who has ALWAYS been there for me? Jamesons! And now I've divorced him and I can't help but wonder if it wasn't a horrible, horrible mistake.
You know transformation is such a terribly long and tricky process that it's no wonder I'm feeling lost in the shuffle right about now. Some years back I lost 60 pounds. I think it took two years when all was said and done. But there would frequently come times when after a 3 pound weight loss that I HAD FOUGHT FOR, I'd look at my new body and think, "What the hell good has that done me?" My knockers were limp, my stomach gathered in these weird ruffles above my brazillian. It wasn't a linear process, is what I'm saying, and I spent more time in between sizes, swimming in ill fitting clothes than I did prancing around in tiny bikini's.
But now, years later when I've been an enviable size and shape for quite some time, I hardly ever think back to that long, protracted era of EXTREME PHYSICAL DISCOMFORT. I only reap the benefits. I feel like this is what's going on in my sobriety right now. I'm too far into my transformation to turn around, and I'm not far enough to see the light at the end of this fucking birth canal.
So, uhh, yeah, day 8 of the detox is clearly bringing some repressed emotions front and center. *grins sheepishly*
It's all good. I'm off to catch a meeting and share my little irish ass off. Good luck and God speed friends.
-I
Monday, February 23, 2009
Well, well, well....
I am WITHOUT blackberry today. This is, in equal measure, both liberating and terrifying. I clearly have access to my laptop, or I would not be able to blog about my terror now. So there is that. For what it's worth.
I'm actually feeling sort of Xena Warrior Princess today. The morning was a bit rushed and rocky, but once I started digging into the day's conflicts I found my hidden backbone. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Anyone can maintain spiritual equilbriam during happy times. It's how you ride the rocky road that shows you where your faith is REALLY at.
Last night was a snoozy, ignoring my obligations, detoxing, self-indulgent, sort of extravaganza. I napped until 8 pm, woke up and started sampling an assortment of Larabars, watched HBO movies until 2 in the morning and then slept until 5 am. I'm not saying that's an ideal night of REM cycles, but it was kind of fun and I felt fine this morning for it.
Until I walked into ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE on the job at 7:30 this morning. For a moment, I was regretting my secret of night of tv viewing, but I had no choice but to dive in to the center of the mayhem. The water was surprisingly warm....
My mind is far more clear than it has been, my anxiety levels are way low for such a nasty day, and I'm extremely present in all of my activities. I'm noticeably more productive and organized and sarcastic comments aren't sticking to me like they normally would. To me, this is truly Raw Food in the Real World. This is Principles and Programs in action, and baby, it's fucking sweet.
Earlier in my sobriety I frequently bemoaned the fact that maintaining a spiritual existence on a construction site was a magic trick on par with curing cancer. "How the f'ing hell am I supposed to manage that?" I'd weep. I refused to take responsibility for my chosen line of work and I really expected to be given some sort of crown after any day I'd managed to work 12 hours without a tantrum. But as I've grown up, I've had to admit the truth. It was no accident that I ended up in a male dominated industry, scrambling after a postion of power. There's something I want to prove to myself here, and the world isn't about to stop spinning while I get on with it.
It helps me to get clear about this sort of thing when I'm upping the work I put into my program, or cleansing, for that matter. Because I can tell everyone else whatever I fucking please, but if I don't know where my own motives are...well....I'm sunk. Bliss and Nirvana are lovely and all that, but I'm a brick and mortar, results oriented sort of girl. I want to know which parts of my psyche work and which ones don't. I want to maximize every single hour available to me. I want to build like my ass is on fire and love like it's the last day on earth. Sobriety hasn't cured me of my alcoholic extremism and I sort of hope it never does. :)
Life is short, very short, and I need to know what makes it sweet for me. Day 5 of cleansing has left me with my mostly core self, and not to brag, I'm kind of perfect.
Thought you should know.
Ingenue
I'm actually feeling sort of Xena Warrior Princess today. The morning was a bit rushed and rocky, but once I started digging into the day's conflicts I found my hidden backbone. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Anyone can maintain spiritual equilbriam during happy times. It's how you ride the rocky road that shows you where your faith is REALLY at.
Last night was a snoozy, ignoring my obligations, detoxing, self-indulgent, sort of extravaganza. I napped until 8 pm, woke up and started sampling an assortment of Larabars, watched HBO movies until 2 in the morning and then slept until 5 am. I'm not saying that's an ideal night of REM cycles, but it was kind of fun and I felt fine this morning for it.
Until I walked into ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE on the job at 7:30 this morning. For a moment, I was regretting my secret of night of tv viewing, but I had no choice but to dive in to the center of the mayhem. The water was surprisingly warm....
My mind is far more clear than it has been, my anxiety levels are way low for such a nasty day, and I'm extremely present in all of my activities. I'm noticeably more productive and organized and sarcastic comments aren't sticking to me like they normally would. To me, this is truly Raw Food in the Real World. This is Principles and Programs in action, and baby, it's fucking sweet.
Earlier in my sobriety I frequently bemoaned the fact that maintaining a spiritual existence on a construction site was a magic trick on par with curing cancer. "How the f'ing hell am I supposed to manage that?" I'd weep. I refused to take responsibility for my chosen line of work and I really expected to be given some sort of crown after any day I'd managed to work 12 hours without a tantrum. But as I've grown up, I've had to admit the truth. It was no accident that I ended up in a male dominated industry, scrambling after a postion of power. There's something I want to prove to myself here, and the world isn't about to stop spinning while I get on with it.
It helps me to get clear about this sort of thing when I'm upping the work I put into my program, or cleansing, for that matter. Because I can tell everyone else whatever I fucking please, but if I don't know where my own motives are...well....I'm sunk. Bliss and Nirvana are lovely and all that, but I'm a brick and mortar, results oriented sort of girl. I want to know which parts of my psyche work and which ones don't. I want to maximize every single hour available to me. I want to build like my ass is on fire and love like it's the last day on earth. Sobriety hasn't cured me of my alcoholic extremism and I sort of hope it never does. :)
Life is short, very short, and I need to know what makes it sweet for me. Day 5 of cleansing has left me with my mostly core self, and not to brag, I'm kind of perfect.
Thought you should know.
Ingenue
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Big Love, baby.
Today was a good day. It wasn't the day I had planned out for myself, but it was good. I have a new sponsor (yes, another one) and we had a tasty little chat after That Big Meeting today.
I came home afterwards, and I MEANT to workout and study, but instead I napped for 5 hours. 5 HOURS. It was soooo nice.
I woke up and strolled down to the organic bodega around the corner and armed myself with Lara Bars for a Big Love viewing session. Lara Bars have new flava and they are flipping scrumdidliumptious. Coconut Cream and Pistachio make my nipples hard. Equally.
So, where does that leave me? I end day 4 with some mild detox symptoms, achy knees, and a lethargic dreamy countenance. I am excited about upcoming endeavors, but not my usually ambitious self.
Right now, I'm still working through something R told me over brunch.
"We're Sober now Ma. There are no more victims here. There's only volunteers."
I came home afterwards, and I MEANT to workout and study, but instead I napped for 5 hours. 5 HOURS. It was soooo nice.
I woke up and strolled down to the organic bodega around the corner and armed myself with Lara Bars for a Big Love viewing session. Lara Bars have new flava and they are flipping scrumdidliumptious. Coconut Cream and Pistachio make my nipples hard. Equally.
So, where does that leave me? I end day 4 with some mild detox symptoms, achy knees, and a lethargic dreamy countenance. I am excited about upcoming endeavors, but not my usually ambitious self.
Right now, I'm still working through something R told me over brunch.
"We're Sober now Ma. There are no more victims here. There's only volunteers."
Quickie, quickie....
Day 4 is upon me and the one thing that I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY ABOUT RIGHT NOW, is that my digestion is VERY happy about the food change. There's no way to pussyfoot around this subject, so I'll come right out and say what's on my mind.
When Raw Food is working out for me, pooing is like the most enjoyable experience ever.
When Raw Food isn't working out for me, the constipation, bloating, and uncontrollable gas explosions make me long for a quick death.
This time around Raw Food is working, working, working. Mind you, I've made alot of mistakes along the way, and now there are some food combinations I know to avoid. No nutmilk fruit smoothies, for instance. Shit makes me swell up like a beach ball. If my fiber intake, like, triples over night (as it will anytime you switch from cooked to predominantly raw) I know to up my water big time in the beginning, to move it all through.
Listen, it is categorically impossible to feel sexy and gassy at the same time. This is not my vanity, this is not me being a weenie. Never in the history of raw foods or vixens has a woman managed to pull off a full scale seduction while worrying that any minute her bowels might decide to eject a steady stream of Volatile Organic Compounds. And Raw done Wrong can lead to weeks and weeks of gassy, constipated, autointoxication. I've had to learn this the hard way.
The last time my elimination system went on strike because of Raw Foods I tried to be a man about it. "Toughen up, bitch!" I sternly admonished myself. "No one's ever gotten a fully detoxed cell structure by complaining about every little stomach ache and grumble." Of course this self directed vitriol only managed to make my stomach hurt worse. That time around I learned that my bowels will happily close shop if I don't talk nicely to myself. :) Stress and anger constipate me as quickly as bad food does.
Who knew?
Ingenue
When Raw Food is working out for me, pooing is like the most enjoyable experience ever.
When Raw Food isn't working out for me, the constipation, bloating, and uncontrollable gas explosions make me long for a quick death.
This time around Raw Food is working, working, working. Mind you, I've made alot of mistakes along the way, and now there are some food combinations I know to avoid. No nutmilk fruit smoothies, for instance. Shit makes me swell up like a beach ball. If my fiber intake, like, triples over night (as it will anytime you switch from cooked to predominantly raw) I know to up my water big time in the beginning, to move it all through.
Listen, it is categorically impossible to feel sexy and gassy at the same time. This is not my vanity, this is not me being a weenie. Never in the history of raw foods or vixens has a woman managed to pull off a full scale seduction while worrying that any minute her bowels might decide to eject a steady stream of Volatile Organic Compounds. And Raw done Wrong can lead to weeks and weeks of gassy, constipated, autointoxication. I've had to learn this the hard way.
The last time my elimination system went on strike because of Raw Foods I tried to be a man about it. "Toughen up, bitch!" I sternly admonished myself. "No one's ever gotten a fully detoxed cell structure by complaining about every little stomach ache and grumble." Of course this self directed vitriol only managed to make my stomach hurt worse. That time around I learned that my bowels will happily close shop if I don't talk nicely to myself. :) Stress and anger constipate me as quickly as bad food does.
Who knew?
Ingenue
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Day 3.....
Anecdotally speaking, the third day of ANY new dietary shift is a BFD. Your body is starting to get wise to the fact that you're seriously not going to be giving it what it's craving. Which is a good thing, because at three days into a cleanse your cravings are unlikely to be centered on anything wholesome. :) Once you start purging addicitive foods from your diet (and dairy and gluten are damnably addictive. How many times have you heard someone says they couldn't live without cheese? Or bread for that matter? Total junkie thinking) your body starts to go through the withdrawal process. As a woman who's been forced to withdraw from a variety of substances MANY, MANY times, let me offer my hard-won expertise on how this business goes down.
Stage 1, HOLY SHIT ACUTE WITHDRAWAL
Lasts: anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.
This is it. You're learning to live without something that's no longer working for you and your mind and body are in full scale revolt. Your emotions are all over the place, drama levels are running high, and you have this internal itch that you'll never be able to scratch. Physically, depending on what you're trying to kick, there's a very good chance you feel flu-ish and miserable. For some reason whether you are trying to come off heroin or quit sugar for good, withdrawal always feels like the flu. Of course the levels of severity are subject to change. :)
Remember: You are utterly powerless over this addiction, whatever it may be. Pray for patience, pray for strength. One day at a time, yeah?
Stage 2, PINK CLOUD, BITCHES.
Lasts: a few weeks, a few months, if you're karma's REALLY good- maybe a year.
To quote Big Boi: It's like a brand new pair of reeboks or a junkie freshly detoxed. You feel the tingling all over like convulsions or the rooster pox...
Who knew you could get catch a fucking buzz from being abstinent???? But it's true, and never fails. The minute your body stops withdrawing, you temporarily enter the blissfully orgasmic state of.....hmmmm.......pink cloud pleasure mania. It's not quite happiness, although it can be easily confused for it. It's certainly not a bad thing, and you're actually hoping you can stay on Cloud Fuschia forever and ever and ever. But alas, this is not to be. This a rest and recovery station, not a permanent home. NOWHERE IS THE PINK CLOUD MORE OBVIOUS THAN IN RECOVERING FROM FOOD ISSUES. For example: You're three weeks on raw food and you feel amazing. You've lost six pounds, you're never hungry for junk, and after a long traumatic history with binge eating, you feel in control of your body and what goes into it. Could it really be this easy? Might you finally be free from this horrible shit show?
Not exactly. As soon as you start asking these questions it's time to move into.....
Stage 3, RETREAT DAMN YOU, RETREAT!!!!!
Lasts: as longs as it needs too.
And you were doing so well! Yesterday you were optimistic, upbeat, looking forward to your new life and today you are resistant, surly, and downright combative with anyone who makes the mistake of getting in your way. Your body is feeling amazing without the... (booze, sugar, dairy, cigarettes, whatever, take your pic) but you can't help noticing that your emotional self is...uhhh....pretty fucking emotional. Without the haze of a sugar high, without the release of an hourly nic-stick, you're just strapped in for the Feelings Freefall. It. Is. Exhausting. You're starting to realize that you weren't just eating because you were hungry, you didn't starve yourself for all of those years because you were dieting, and nobody who's mentally well drinks to blackout four nights a week for fun. Something big is going on inside you and it's been there for a very long time. It's utterly terrifying, and you are FULLY WILLING to eat, drink, or smoke whatever you need to MAKE IT GO AWAY.
It may sound gnarly, but this is the stage where the girls become women. Anyone can stay clean on a pink cloud, but every day you stay away from your chosen substance in this stage is a freaking miracle. You're turning within, you're wading through your inner muck, you're surveying your internal damage and decay. You've been sick, really really sick, and you don't know what's going to make it better. DO NOT QUIT BEFORE THE MIRACLE. You are brave and beautiful and as crazy as everything seems, you don't want to miss what comes next.....
Stage 4: REVOLUTION BABY (By way of Acceptance)
Lasts: as long as you'll let it. :)
You give up. You're surrendered to the reality of YOU, not what you think you should be. You need what you need, you want what you want, and all you really know is you don't want to go back to where you were. Regardless of what you're feeling, you're managing to act (and action is far more important than words or feelings) like a woman who loves herself deeply. Your body expects and wants wholesome foods and your mind doesn't argue. You engage in some serious downward dog when back in the day you would have been binge drinking. You still stumble here and there, but you KNOW it's all good. You're feeling more protected and nourished then you have in a very, very long time and you have the courage to live in the present moment and not in your fantasies. You feel your feelings and then get on with your life.
This is totally the stage where the student is ready and the teacher is appearing. You'll start meditating more, examing toxic relationships, and reaching out to new soulmates. Your creativity will be at an all time high, and you are truly firing from all cylinders. ENJOY THIS SHIT. Just enjoy it, you've freaking earned it! Healing hurts bad sometimes, but did you give up? Did you cash your check? No, you did not! You rock, in a big way, and no one knows what the future holds for you. Whatever it is, it's guaranteed to be beyond your wildest dreams.....
Into the beyond, my beloveds.
Ingenue
Stage 1, HOLY SHIT ACUTE WITHDRAWAL
Lasts: anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.
This is it. You're learning to live without something that's no longer working for you and your mind and body are in full scale revolt. Your emotions are all over the place, drama levels are running high, and you have this internal itch that you'll never be able to scratch. Physically, depending on what you're trying to kick, there's a very good chance you feel flu-ish and miserable. For some reason whether you are trying to come off heroin or quit sugar for good, withdrawal always feels like the flu. Of course the levels of severity are subject to change. :)
Remember: You are utterly powerless over this addiction, whatever it may be. Pray for patience, pray for strength. One day at a time, yeah?
Stage 2, PINK CLOUD, BITCHES.
Lasts: a few weeks, a few months, if you're karma's REALLY good- maybe a year.
To quote Big Boi: It's like a brand new pair of reeboks or a junkie freshly detoxed. You feel the tingling all over like convulsions or the rooster pox...
Who knew you could get catch a fucking buzz from being abstinent???? But it's true, and never fails. The minute your body stops withdrawing, you temporarily enter the blissfully orgasmic state of.....hmmmm.......pink cloud pleasure mania. It's not quite happiness, although it can be easily confused for it. It's certainly not a bad thing, and you're actually hoping you can stay on Cloud Fuschia forever and ever and ever. But alas, this is not to be. This a rest and recovery station, not a permanent home. NOWHERE IS THE PINK CLOUD MORE OBVIOUS THAN IN RECOVERING FROM FOOD ISSUES. For example: You're three weeks on raw food and you feel amazing. You've lost six pounds, you're never hungry for junk, and after a long traumatic history with binge eating, you feel in control of your body and what goes into it. Could it really be this easy? Might you finally be free from this horrible shit show?
Not exactly. As soon as you start asking these questions it's time to move into.....
Stage 3, RETREAT DAMN YOU, RETREAT!!!!!
Lasts: as longs as it needs too.
And you were doing so well! Yesterday you were optimistic, upbeat, looking forward to your new life and today you are resistant, surly, and downright combative with anyone who makes the mistake of getting in your way. Your body is feeling amazing without the... (booze, sugar, dairy, cigarettes, whatever, take your pic) but you can't help noticing that your emotional self is...uhhh....pretty fucking emotional. Without the haze of a sugar high, without the release of an hourly nic-stick, you're just strapped in for the Feelings Freefall. It. Is. Exhausting. You're starting to realize that you weren't just eating because you were hungry, you didn't starve yourself for all of those years because you were dieting, and nobody who's mentally well drinks to blackout four nights a week for fun. Something big is going on inside you and it's been there for a very long time. It's utterly terrifying, and you are FULLY WILLING to eat, drink, or smoke whatever you need to MAKE IT GO AWAY.
It may sound gnarly, but this is the stage where the girls become women. Anyone can stay clean on a pink cloud, but every day you stay away from your chosen substance in this stage is a freaking miracle. You're turning within, you're wading through your inner muck, you're surveying your internal damage and decay. You've been sick, really really sick, and you don't know what's going to make it better. DO NOT QUIT BEFORE THE MIRACLE. You are brave and beautiful and as crazy as everything seems, you don't want to miss what comes next.....
Stage 4: REVOLUTION BABY (By way of Acceptance)
Lasts: as long as you'll let it. :)
You give up. You're surrendered to the reality of YOU, not what you think you should be. You need what you need, you want what you want, and all you really know is you don't want to go back to where you were. Regardless of what you're feeling, you're managing to act (and action is far more important than words or feelings) like a woman who loves herself deeply. Your body expects and wants wholesome foods and your mind doesn't argue. You engage in some serious downward dog when back in the day you would have been binge drinking. You still stumble here and there, but you KNOW it's all good. You're feeling more protected and nourished then you have in a very, very long time and you have the courage to live in the present moment and not in your fantasies. You feel your feelings and then get on with your life.
This is totally the stage where the student is ready and the teacher is appearing. You'll start meditating more, examing toxic relationships, and reaching out to new soulmates. Your creativity will be at an all time high, and you are truly firing from all cylinders. ENJOY THIS SHIT. Just enjoy it, you've freaking earned it! Healing hurts bad sometimes, but did you give up? Did you cash your check? No, you did not! You rock, in a big way, and no one knows what the future holds for you. Whatever it is, it's guaranteed to be beyond your wildest dreams.....
Into the beyond, my beloveds.
Ingenue
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Counting, counting, counting days......
Alright that wasn't fair. I know it totally makes it sound like I've relapsed, but seriously, I loved counting days. It was a very special time, although a time I have no intention of repeating. God willing. Still, there's something magical about a ninety day bench mark. The bible says, "Give it but a season" (that's ninety days for you atheists out there) and while I usually gloss over the finer points of the Holy Word, they've made a believer out of me there. In three month's time, miracles can happen. In three month's time drunk girls can morph into sober chics. Anything you can commit too for 90 days can be safely considered for a lifetime.
So imagine my joy when the effervescent Raw Divas suggested a pre-spring 90 day cleanse! HOOK A SISTER UP. This has been a winter of All Things Cooked and Sugary for me, so I need to release some toxins in an epic way. Cleansing for me is one of life's greatest joys. I have a tendency to attract spiritual clutter in my day to day existence, so periodically, I need to STOP and let go. The beautiful thing about cleaning out your body is that the rest of your life follows suit. You find yourself emptying out your closets, cleaning off your desk, and letting go of old dogma that no longer serves you.
It's like working The Steps on your saddlebags.
And this is a really beautifully thought out detox too. It's called....drumroll please.......
THE 90 DAY STOP BEING SO OBSESSED WITH WHAT YOU EAT DETOX
I know, right? Freaking Brilliant.
I have huge, beautiful, life changing things ahead of me this spring and I need some space to welcome in the new parts of myself I haven't met yet. So here I go. Detox/Cleansing is a HUGE way to let the Universe know, you're open for business. And Universe, I am so unbelievably ready for you.
So I will be posting my adventures in produce here. Day 1 has been filled with:
Cantaloupe and Grapes
Beet/Carrot/Apple/Spinach/Dandelion juicies
Spinach/Avocado/Cashew Salad
Coconut Shake
Raw Vegan Oreo (num num)
The only rules for right now are religiously avoiding Dairy and Gluten (two MAYJAH disgestion stressors) and loving yourself into absolute oblivion. But check out these chicks for yourself. They'll give you the proper lowdown and they're worth supporting. To Self-loving women out to make the world a happier, healthier place? Can't beat it.
http://therawdivas.com/blog/
When was the last time I told you I loved you?
Now.
Luv, luv, luv youse.
Ingenue
So imagine my joy when the effervescent Raw Divas suggested a pre-spring 90 day cleanse! HOOK A SISTER UP. This has been a winter of All Things Cooked and Sugary for me, so I need to release some toxins in an epic way. Cleansing for me is one of life's greatest joys. I have a tendency to attract spiritual clutter in my day to day existence, so periodically, I need to STOP and let go. The beautiful thing about cleaning out your body is that the rest of your life follows suit. You find yourself emptying out your closets, cleaning off your desk, and letting go of old dogma that no longer serves you.
It's like working The Steps on your saddlebags.
And this is a really beautifully thought out detox too. It's called....drumroll please.......
THE 90 DAY STOP BEING SO OBSESSED WITH WHAT YOU EAT DETOX
I know, right? Freaking Brilliant.
I have huge, beautiful, life changing things ahead of me this spring and I need some space to welcome in the new parts of myself I haven't met yet. So here I go. Detox/Cleansing is a HUGE way to let the Universe know, you're open for business. And Universe, I am so unbelievably ready for you.
So I will be posting my adventures in produce here. Day 1 has been filled with:
Cantaloupe and Grapes
Beet/Carrot/Apple/Spinach/Dandelion juicies
Spinach/Avocado/Cashew Salad
Coconut Shake
Raw Vegan Oreo (num num)
The only rules for right now are religiously avoiding Dairy and Gluten (two MAYJAH disgestion stressors) and loving yourself into absolute oblivion. But check out these chicks for yourself. They'll give you the proper lowdown and they're worth supporting. To Self-loving women out to make the world a happier, healthier place? Can't beat it.
http://therawdivas.com/blog/
When was the last time I told you I loved you?
Now.
Luv, luv, luv youse.
Ingenue
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