Woo, yesterday was a rollercoaster of emotion, intention, and being. Mike and I have been scouring Craigslist the last week or so desperately in search of some work, ideally outside this house. Mike's got his internet thing all set up, but he wants a steady, outside job to keep his mind off of his click statistics, not to mention reel us in some steady income. I be hungry! I want a hobby, a job, something to keep me productive and prevent insanity from setting in. Sitting in this house day in, day out makes me crazy, like I'm in a black hole where depression and anxiety dig deep and quickly. I went to a dance class in Boston a few weeks ago, but it became financially impractical when I realized it cost almost $30 to get there, pay for the class, and get back. There's an audition for some sort of choir tomorrow, but the spring concert is two weeks after the baby's due date. Even if I were decorating the baby's room, physically preparing in some way it would be okay, but there's nothing to do right now. As of yet we have no crib, no shelves, no furniture, nothing to put the dozens of outfits I received at the shower on. So, I look to the outside.
It's a challenge for me to formulate in my mind what I want to do because I'm constantly met with things that I cannot or definitely do not want to do. There seem to be hordes of jobs for the qualified, which I am not. One thing we both know we do not want to do is work in restaurants. I've done enough of that, and it's hardly a job for a nearly seven month pregnant woman. The running around, sweating, stressful backbreaking duties are hardly worth the minimum wage. And all the time I am met with my own limiting belief that "no one is going to hire a pregnant woman who is going to quit in two months." And really, isn't that generally true? Although when I worked at Domino's all those years ago, this heavily pregnant, Marlboro-sucking woman started work on my last day. I told her I didn't approve of her smoking and forgot all about it, but I suppose that sort of thing does happen.
One thing I can do is write. It's a perfect job for me, as it usually pays well, and I don't have to worry about any painful labor until the baby comes. Unfortunately I have had a bad experience with a so-called "professional" magazine editor already ("hey, let's just not pay her!"), but I'm not letting that deter me from working with people again. Now what I'm going to do with those violated trust issues, I don't know. Gandhi says even if a man betrays you 70 times, you should trust him 71 times. I imagine he means you should trust him infinitely. Well, I'm not Gandhi, and taking advantage of freelancers pisses me off!
But of all the ads we have responded to, we either get no response or one response and silence thereafter. This is entirely frustrating to both of us. What are we doing wrong? Honestly! What are we vibrating that turns the Universe off so much? Some crackheads have jobs, why don't we? We's good people, and we really do work hard. Fuck!
At some point mid-day I was attempting to post a "writer for hire" ad on Craigslist when Allison turned on the TV, and I grudgingly dragged the computer into our bedroom to write in silence. Mike was breathing cross-legged on the bed. Just as I had my ad worded to perfection the computer froze. I closed my eyes and felt the blood pump faster in my veins. I don't know how long it took for the machine to start back up, it could have been 10 minutes, but I tried it again. Just as before, the page froze as I neared completion. I closed my eyes again, Mike tsked and slid the computer onto his lap, as he loves to take care of these things. I felt his frustration and expectation that I was about to freak out, which I was, but I just kept my eyes closed softly and breathed iiiiiin and ooooouuuut. The blood was still pumping hard and fast, daring me to snap, but I didn't dare even open my eyes. I squeezed two single tears out from beneath my gently rested eyelids and continued to breathe. Mike clicked and clicked, I knew nothing was working, but the more I stayed still the weaker his frustration became. I had two choices: open my eyes, say something destructive and proceed to slam around the house damning my luck and life and the goddamn Universe, or remain silent and let it just pass by. The former option was still teetering on the brink of transpiring, like an aching sweet tooth. I let two more tears fall.
After a few minutes of this my blood pressure went back down, and I didn't necessarily want to throw the computer against the wall, but I thought it best to stick with it just in case. Just to see what happens. Very rarely had I ever had the patience to stay inside a meditation, as I guess I'd never truly been in one. Never a necessary one at least! Mike, for some reason, offered me the computer again once he'd gotten it straightened out, and I quietly but emphatically declined. Cha! Right! Like I'd want to start the whole process over again! He didn't try to speak to me again after that, though he did continue to clack the computer keys right next to me, which brought up annoyance. When this continued to bother me, I unhesitatingly went back to the breath, but when that wasn't working very well I started doing the Alternate Nostril Breathing exercise. I don't have the desire to describe it here, so just google it, it's good. That exercise immediately brought me back to my breath awareness--it kind of had to, my nose had some snot in it, and if I wanted to get the oxygen in and out effectively, I had to pay attention to it. After a few minutes of this I went back to normal breathing, and I noticed I felt strange, like drunk or drug strange. I quickly acknowledged that it seemed like my head was tilted to the left side, like when you fall asleep on an airplane. I didn't dare open my eyes to check, but it soon got weirder. Not only was my head tilted to the side, but I felt like I was scrunched up, sitting in bed like a distorted midget with its head tilted to the side. Such a bizarre sensation! Then my eyes seemed to get closer to the darkness ahead of them, like my eyeballs were not just observing it, but they were a part of the darkness behind the eyelids. And the computer! That damn computer again! I became super aware of it, like it was sitting right next to my head, motor whirrrrring my brains out. At this I was still very annoyed with Mike for continuing to use it next to me when I was obviously in quite the state.
Shortly thereafter I lost the awareness and came out of the meditation, but what a ride that was! I told Mike all about it after I'd gotten my head back, including how I never want to see or hear a computer again during a meditation. If he notices me breathing with my eyes closed, get that thing away from me! It felt good that I had conquered the anger and turned it into a positive experience, but then I started musing and the questions and tears flowed. "What is the blockage here? Why are we not attracting what we want? I don't know how to fix the problem if I don't know what it is." It seems like I've made plenty of room in my life for financial abundance. There's room in my wallet for a stack of 100s! There's room in the fridge for good food! I feel like I have made room in my life for abundance to come in, but it continues to stay just out of reach.
I am as optimistic and positive as I can be, but the negativity and fear still creep in. And that's normal, isn't it? So what if I'm not following all the rules of effective manifestation? Now it seems like if I have one negative thought it cancels out all the positivity I have cultivated. Before I even knew about the Law of Attraction my life was great! I trusted that I would always have the things I had always had, and more, but suddenly just knowing about the power causes it to slip away. What kind of bullshit is that?? Maybe I'm forcing it, maybe I think about it too much. I don't know where the perfect medium is. But how am I not supposed to think about it when my cupboards are empty and the insurance payment approaches? How am I supposed to remain positive when I see voids everywhere???
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Vibration of Abundance
Okay, so yesterday was a very charged post, but today is much lighter, I assure you. First of all let me say I feel kind of embarrassed about the last blog, and it's probably because I'm feeling a little guilt over just laying our family woes out on the cybertable for everyone to see (yes, my zero humble followers). I also feel some guilt because when Mom and Peter arrived home from their dinner out, she seemed much more connected and vibrant than I've seen her in a long time. Peter's daughter came over with her two kids, and Mom was totally into it, paging through garden books with the little girl on the couch. It was strange that I attracted the opposite vibration I was putting out, or did I? Perhaps underneath my surface frustration my vibration was a positive one, a hopeful one. Whatever it was I felt guilty for even saying those things about her. After Peter's daughter left, Mom continued to engage in conversation until she stepped out to the porch for a cigarette. Despite this blip in my expectations, I maintain that yesterday's post is an accurate portrayal of my thought and feeling process in that moment, and I can't take that back. Every family has problems, mine is no different, and they need to be expressed, if only in journal form.
So, let us continue. Little by little I've been going through a book I got for Christmas Born to Manifest because I'm really needing a boost in my manifestation skills. Today I read a chapter primarily about money, which is high on my priority list. It recommends doing a couple exercises daily, one called $10,000/day and one where you observe and celebrate all that you are abundant in. This is to get in the habit of giving off a vibration of abundance.
(Hold up, I'm confused about something, I need to work it out. They say the Law of Attraction simply brings you what you are vibrating. If you say "I want $10,000" but don't really BELIEVE you are going to get it, that vibration transcends the words you say, and you don't get it. Similarly when you say "I don't want my sister to read my diary" your sister is probably going to read your diary because you BELIEVE she really is going to read it, and also the Law of Attraction does not recognize negating words, only the vibration you put out when you say them. This explains why so often the opposite of what we are wishing and wanting to happen, particularly when using negating words, unfortunately happens. So following this model, were you to say "I don't want to make a lot of money," wouldn't you actually start making a lot of money simply because not only do you probably BELIEVE this statement but the Law of Attraction does not recognize negating words? Wouldn't the LOA simply hear "I want to make a lot of money"? Or would you continue to attract nothing because you really believe and are vibrating the same negative statement, that you won't make a lot of money? I guess when we say a negating comment, "I don't want it to rain today," we're vibrationally believing the positive statement "It will rain today," therefore it rains. The 'don't' is a futile attempt to trick ourselves out of a bad experience. In this case BAD = POSITIVE STATEMENT: "it will rain today," "I have to go on food stamps," "my wife will leave me." But when the positive statement is one that we as humans have been conditioned to believe will NOT and CANNOT happen to us, when we wish for the positive statement "I want $10,000," we're really BELIEVING "I will never get $10,000," which is a stronger vibration than the positive words stated in the first sentence. It's all about vibration, not simply receiving the opposite of what we say. We're just conditioned to expect the negative; we have to consciously teach ourselves to accept that we deserve the positive. Okay, I answered my question. Thanks for your help.)
And we're back. The Vibration of Abundance. So often we can't really pull the feeling of Abundance out of a hat--what does abundance feel like? The book reminds us to recognize the moments when we feel abundant: when you get paid, when you have a kitchen full of groceries, when you're surrounded by family, when you and your partner are snuggled together in bed. The more we recognize these moments, the more the Law of Attraction will recognize these vibrations and deliver you an abundance of them! If we can give as much time to a feeling of abundance as we can, we can only receive more of that feeling. Then you can begin to direct the abundance in whatever areas of your life you want it. So today, I am very abundant in love and family: Mike is always with me, his support is all-pervasive, and I am thankful for my sisters, mother, and dog Jack, invaluable centerpieces of my life. I am abundant in friends, though they are not with me physically, they are all over the world, surrounding me in a comforting global cocoon! I am abundant in shelter with a lovely roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in. I am abundant in television, to use as much or as little as I want, as well as all the free movies I want. I am currently abundant in some foods (haha), like bread, peanut butter, ramen noodles, eggs, greens, raspberry preserves, and tea. I am abundant in and grateful for connection with my baby and birth choices--I know I can deliver naturally and safely in whatever position I want, and I get to bring him home right after. This is unheard of for a lot of women out there!
So there, I am full of abundance. I recognize it, celebrate it, and am eager to receive more of it. Now you try it! It makes you feel good! The other exercise called $10,000/day is fun, but also kind of challenging. If you had $10,000 to spend today, what would you spend it on? You can play again tomorrow. So really you get $10,000 every day to spend on whatever you want. This was challenging for me because I started getting all up in my head and didn't know what I would spend it on. Maybe that's a block for me, why I'm not receiving an abundance of money, because it's hard for me to believe I'm going to receive it, therefore I just don't have strong intentions for it. Well, I'm working on that! Today I would go to Whole Foods and have a major shopping spree and also order bee products online. I would buy radical baby furniture and the rest of the supplies I need to prepare for his birth. Oh shit, I'd pay off my debt, too! It would only take me...three days of $10,000 to pay off my debt? So whew, glad that's gone, then once the baby is born and old enough to travel (what, three, four months?) Mike and I would buy plane tickets and head back to Hawaii. We would rent a swanky jungle house for a couple weeks while we go to the beach and scope out land to purchase. We'll of course find the perfect spot, about four acres, and then we'll hire a good friend, maybe Robert, to consult on what needs to happen next. Clear this, clear that, then start planting. Avocados, coconuts, oranges, mangoes, and the vegetable garden. Then we'll design and start building our dream jungle house. Not too far into the jungle, too many mosquitoes. Halfway between nowhere and the beach. Of course we'll become friends with our native Hawaiian neighbors so we can live peacefully. And the dream continues, but I'll work the details out myself. Now you try it!
Whewwww, I feel much better. Once you get past any blocks you have about receiving something, it plays out beautifully in your head. And if it can play out beautifully in your head, it can play out in your physical reality too. I have an abundance of confidence!
Okay, now I'm going to eat an abundance of breakfast. Love love love y'all!
So, let us continue. Little by little I've been going through a book I got for Christmas Born to Manifest because I'm really needing a boost in my manifestation skills. Today I read a chapter primarily about money, which is high on my priority list. It recommends doing a couple exercises daily, one called $10,000/day and one where you observe and celebrate all that you are abundant in. This is to get in the habit of giving off a vibration of abundance.
(Hold up, I'm confused about something, I need to work it out. They say the Law of Attraction simply brings you what you are vibrating. If you say "I want $10,000" but don't really BELIEVE you are going to get it, that vibration transcends the words you say, and you don't get it. Similarly when you say "I don't want my sister to read my diary" your sister is probably going to read your diary because you BELIEVE she really is going to read it, and also the Law of Attraction does not recognize negating words, only the vibration you put out when you say them. This explains why so often the opposite of what we are wishing and wanting to happen, particularly when using negating words, unfortunately happens. So following this model, were you to say "I don't want to make a lot of money," wouldn't you actually start making a lot of money simply because not only do you probably BELIEVE this statement but the Law of Attraction does not recognize negating words? Wouldn't the LOA simply hear "I want to make a lot of money"? Or would you continue to attract nothing because you really believe and are vibrating the same negative statement, that you won't make a lot of money? I guess when we say a negating comment, "I don't want it to rain today," we're vibrationally believing the positive statement "It will rain today," therefore it rains. The 'don't' is a futile attempt to trick ourselves out of a bad experience. In this case BAD = POSITIVE STATEMENT: "it will rain today," "I have to go on food stamps," "my wife will leave me." But when the positive statement is one that we as humans have been conditioned to believe will NOT and CANNOT happen to us, when we wish for the positive statement "I want $10,000," we're really BELIEVING "I will never get $10,000," which is a stronger vibration than the positive words stated in the first sentence. It's all about vibration, not simply receiving the opposite of what we say. We're just conditioned to expect the negative; we have to consciously teach ourselves to accept that we deserve the positive. Okay, I answered my question. Thanks for your help.)
And we're back. The Vibration of Abundance. So often we can't really pull the feeling of Abundance out of a hat--what does abundance feel like? The book reminds us to recognize the moments when we feel abundant: when you get paid, when you have a kitchen full of groceries, when you're surrounded by family, when you and your partner are snuggled together in bed. The more we recognize these moments, the more the Law of Attraction will recognize these vibrations and deliver you an abundance of them! If we can give as much time to a feeling of abundance as we can, we can only receive more of that feeling. Then you can begin to direct the abundance in whatever areas of your life you want it. So today, I am very abundant in love and family: Mike is always with me, his support is all-pervasive, and I am thankful for my sisters, mother, and dog Jack, invaluable centerpieces of my life. I am abundant in friends, though they are not with me physically, they are all over the world, surrounding me in a comforting global cocoon! I am abundant in shelter with a lovely roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in. I am abundant in television, to use as much or as little as I want, as well as all the free movies I want. I am currently abundant in some foods (haha), like bread, peanut butter, ramen noodles, eggs, greens, raspberry preserves, and tea. I am abundant in and grateful for connection with my baby and birth choices--I know I can deliver naturally and safely in whatever position I want, and I get to bring him home right after. This is unheard of for a lot of women out there!
So there, I am full of abundance. I recognize it, celebrate it, and am eager to receive more of it. Now you try it! It makes you feel good! The other exercise called $10,000/day is fun, but also kind of challenging. If you had $10,000 to spend today, what would you spend it on? You can play again tomorrow. So really you get $10,000 every day to spend on whatever you want. This was challenging for me because I started getting all up in my head and didn't know what I would spend it on. Maybe that's a block for me, why I'm not receiving an abundance of money, because it's hard for me to believe I'm going to receive it, therefore I just don't have strong intentions for it. Well, I'm working on that! Today I would go to Whole Foods and have a major shopping spree and also order bee products online. I would buy radical baby furniture and the rest of the supplies I need to prepare for his birth. Oh shit, I'd pay off my debt, too! It would only take me...three days of $10,000 to pay off my debt? So whew, glad that's gone, then once the baby is born and old enough to travel (what, three, four months?) Mike and I would buy plane tickets and head back to Hawaii. We would rent a swanky jungle house for a couple weeks while we go to the beach and scope out land to purchase. We'll of course find the perfect spot, about four acres, and then we'll hire a good friend, maybe Robert, to consult on what needs to happen next. Clear this, clear that, then start planting. Avocados, coconuts, oranges, mangoes, and the vegetable garden. Then we'll design and start building our dream jungle house. Not too far into the jungle, too many mosquitoes. Halfway between nowhere and the beach. Of course we'll become friends with our native Hawaiian neighbors so we can live peacefully. And the dream continues, but I'll work the details out myself. Now you try it!
Whewwww, I feel much better. Once you get past any blocks you have about receiving something, it plays out beautifully in your head. And if it can play out beautifully in your head, it can play out in your physical reality too. I have an abundance of confidence!
Okay, now I'm going to eat an abundance of breakfast. Love love love y'all!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Eating For More Than Just Two
Happy Saturday, it's snowing! Mike has been summoned to help Petah shovel the driveway. I guess we got about a foot during the night. It's times like these that remind me I'm thankful I have little to no obligations in the outside world, though usually I can get quite bored hibernating in here.
So for almost a week now I've been rejecting my recently indulgent eating habits and choosing more balancing ones. The motivation behind this was at first biological but has now crossed over into the mind-spirit complex, which effectively keeps me going! When I make a commitment to heal myself, I am all about that commitment, and nothing stops me until, well, I do. Allow me to clue you in from the beginning. A couple of weeks ago I noticed something's notquiteright Down Under, which frustrated me as this was the second round of infection in the last few months, and any infection can travel to the uterus and cause preterm labor. I've actually been so freaked out about this that it has continually been popping up in my everyday life through literature, websites, any pregnancy book I flip a random page in, and the recently frequent uterine contractions I've been experiencing. But I know that what I vibrate comes back to me, so this is not surprising to me, just scary. "They" say bacterial infection is especially common in pregnant women, due to hormone fluctuations and a weaker immune system, and the cure is antibiotics. I believe in the case of pregnancy, it is spurred on by an overactive appetite coupled with the mental expectation that a pregnant woman will eat anything and everything, and antibiotics are an extremely superficial treatment for an underlying problem which continues to manifest (and fester) if ignored.
I found it was quite easy for me to eat an overabundance of highly processed carbohydrates and accompanying creamy sauces (flaky biscuits and white gravy, pizza, Chinese food), dairy and sugar mixes (birthday cakes, cheesecake, Christmas cookies), and meat. Basically, your typical American holiday diet. I can't even remember the last meat craving I legitimately had, but I'd been eating it out of habit as the beef and chicken tend to reign in this household. Mike and I decidedly were over meat a couple weeks ago after a couple creepy chicken incidents, so that is little to no problem for us to say goodbye to.
All in all this diet-of-habit causes me to feel slow, heavy, and clogged, amongst other things. I literally become what I eat! I knew the infection was directly related to this overload in my system. My pee had been cloudy, which is a sign of infection, but I immediately recognized it as a Kapha imbalance (I've been studying the Ayurveda book I got for Christmas, which is fascinating in its familiarity. You know when you learn something you've probably never actually heard or read or learned before, but it makes so much sense that it's as if you're simply being reminded of it? That's what the last two weeks have been like for me: constant soul reminders supplementing my studies.). In short, Ayurveda is the ancient Indian science of self-healing with the foundation that our bodies and the food we put in them are all combinations of the five elements: Ether, Air, Water, Fire, Earth. Kapha is one of the tridosha, or three constitutions of the elements: Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. Balance is the desired state, though most everyone is a combination of two or three, with a tendency toward one. I am certainly no expert and have a lot of questions, but I am basing my current experience on what I currently feel.
I tend toward Pitta with some Kapha, but Kapha foods aggravate me very easily. Kapha foods are the heavy ones: dairy, sugar, fatty oils, the moist ones you say "ooh that's gonna weigh me down" but also "ooh that was damn good." The nature of these foods combined with my own sluggish digestive fire/system (agni) creates rancidity in my body, which I believe feeds on the moist, sugary environment I tend to provoke. Whenever I aim to stimulate my agni, it feels natural to cut out those foods which are counteractive and ingest enzymes like lemon and cayenne pepper. So, no butter, no refined or fruit sugar (only vegetable), no milky, creamy, flaky goodness--all that is associated with Home!
So what do I eat? I've always been a salad lover, so raw or steamed veggies are no problem for me, and my own olive oil-lemon-garlic dressing is perfect for stimulating my digestion and eating up the toxins. Garlic is particularly effective as an antibacterial. For a grain, since the processed wheat is largely out, I've turned to quinoa. Quinoa, considered the "gold of the Incas," is an extremely health-riddled food. It is a complete protein, meaning it contains all nine essential amino acids, and is also an excellent source of manganese, magnesium (great for migraine sufferers), and vitamin B2. That goes out to all those perplexed as to how vegetarians could possibly get protein without meat! A serving of quinoa keeps me satisfied from lunch til dinner. Unheard of for me! I just need to work on flavoring it. Hey, I'm from Minnesota, the only spice we know is salt!
I eat a couple scoops of peanut butter with a tiny dollop of raw honey for a sweet treat at night (never cooked or processed honey [so long, squeezy bear!]--honey is a perfect food in its raw form, a literal nectar, and processing unnecessarily eliminates all its healing properties and turns it into a sticky, toxic mess). For snacks I'll munch on carrots and garlic dressing or nuts. Not too many nuts or salt, they aggravate Kapha. Before I go to bed I have a cup of Yogi Mother-To-Be tea, which is satisfyingly sweet in itself after ignoring the cheesecake for a week.
And thaaat's pretty much been it. Okay, I admit, a couple nights I've eaten a package of ramen noodles for something solid to stave off the midnight munchies (I am still a pregnant human!), but fuck da packet, I flavor it myself. Even with those little speed bumps I feel great, lighter, and the infection is gone! I combine the food routine (I hate the word diet) with a nightly apple cider vinegar bath, which is the perfect balancing nightcap. But I do not want to fall back into the icky food trap because the same old shit (literally) will happen all over again. At the same time I know I must aim for balance and not reject all Kapha foods. Unless that is what balances me? I'm still not sure on a lot of the details. I wish I had my own personal Indian guy in my kitchen.
I've noticed this week that my body and baby begins to crave whatever it is I've grown accustomed to eating. I don't have wild needs for the things I ate two weeks ago that must be met; I can sensibly discern what I eat. Whereas the first two months of pregnancy I had to eat everything just to keep the nausea at bay, now is a calm, lovely time for introspection; I'm not tyrannized by my hormones. Though who knows what's to come between now and April?
I'm understanding that not everyone may tune into this like I do, and they can eat whatever the hell they've always eaten with little to no surface problems, but I am thankful my body grows more and more sensitive to what I put in it. I am so glad I have these built-in bio-spirit spark plugs! Even if I stray a certain distance, I can always come back. I'd rather change my routine when needed than allow it to eventually manifest as serious disease. Indeed I believe everyone has these internal catalysts for change, you just have to have a desire to feel them. Like Jesus.
Much love, light, and health in the New Year!
So for almost a week now I've been rejecting my recently indulgent eating habits and choosing more balancing ones. The motivation behind this was at first biological but has now crossed over into the mind-spirit complex, which effectively keeps me going! When I make a commitment to heal myself, I am all about that commitment, and nothing stops me until, well, I do. Allow me to clue you in from the beginning. A couple of weeks ago I noticed something's notquiteright Down Under, which frustrated me as this was the second round of infection in the last few months, and any infection can travel to the uterus and cause preterm labor. I've actually been so freaked out about this that it has continually been popping up in my everyday life through literature, websites, any pregnancy book I flip a random page in, and the recently frequent uterine contractions I've been experiencing. But I know that what I vibrate comes back to me, so this is not surprising to me, just scary. "They" say bacterial infection is especially common in pregnant women, due to hormone fluctuations and a weaker immune system, and the cure is antibiotics. I believe in the case of pregnancy, it is spurred on by an overactive appetite coupled with the mental expectation that a pregnant woman will eat anything and everything, and antibiotics are an extremely superficial treatment for an underlying problem which continues to manifest (and fester) if ignored.
I found it was quite easy for me to eat an overabundance of highly processed carbohydrates and accompanying creamy sauces (flaky biscuits and white gravy, pizza, Chinese food), dairy and sugar mixes (birthday cakes, cheesecake, Christmas cookies), and meat. Basically, your typical American holiday diet. I can't even remember the last meat craving I legitimately had, but I'd been eating it out of habit as the beef and chicken tend to reign in this household. Mike and I decidedly were over meat a couple weeks ago after a couple creepy chicken incidents, so that is little to no problem for us to say goodbye to.
All in all this diet-of-habit causes me to feel slow, heavy, and clogged, amongst other things. I literally become what I eat! I knew the infection was directly related to this overload in my system. My pee had been cloudy, which is a sign of infection, but I immediately recognized it as a Kapha imbalance (I've been studying the Ayurveda book I got for Christmas, which is fascinating in its familiarity. You know when you learn something you've probably never actually heard or read or learned before, but it makes so much sense that it's as if you're simply being reminded of it? That's what the last two weeks have been like for me: constant soul reminders supplementing my studies.). In short, Ayurveda is the ancient Indian science of self-healing with the foundation that our bodies and the food we put in them are all combinations of the five elements: Ether, Air, Water, Fire, Earth. Kapha is one of the tridosha, or three constitutions of the elements: Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. Balance is the desired state, though most everyone is a combination of two or three, with a tendency toward one. I am certainly no expert and have a lot of questions, but I am basing my current experience on what I currently feel.
I tend toward Pitta with some Kapha, but Kapha foods aggravate me very easily. Kapha foods are the heavy ones: dairy, sugar, fatty oils, the moist ones you say "ooh that's gonna weigh me down" but also "ooh that was damn good." The nature of these foods combined with my own sluggish digestive fire/system (agni) creates rancidity in my body, which I believe feeds on the moist, sugary environment I tend to provoke. Whenever I aim to stimulate my agni, it feels natural to cut out those foods which are counteractive and ingest enzymes like lemon and cayenne pepper. So, no butter, no refined or fruit sugar (only vegetable), no milky, creamy, flaky goodness--all that is associated with Home!
So what do I eat? I've always been a salad lover, so raw or steamed veggies are no problem for me, and my own olive oil-lemon-garlic dressing is perfect for stimulating my digestion and eating up the toxins. Garlic is particularly effective as an antibacterial. For a grain, since the processed wheat is largely out, I've turned to quinoa. Quinoa, considered the "gold of the Incas," is an extremely health-riddled food. It is a complete protein, meaning it contains all nine essential amino acids, and is also an excellent source of manganese, magnesium (great for migraine sufferers), and vitamin B2. That goes out to all those perplexed as to how vegetarians could possibly get protein without meat! A serving of quinoa keeps me satisfied from lunch til dinner. Unheard of for me! I just need to work on flavoring it. Hey, I'm from Minnesota, the only spice we know is salt!
I eat a couple scoops of peanut butter with a tiny dollop of raw honey for a sweet treat at night (never cooked or processed honey [so long, squeezy bear!]--honey is a perfect food in its raw form, a literal nectar, and processing unnecessarily eliminates all its healing properties and turns it into a sticky, toxic mess). For snacks I'll munch on carrots and garlic dressing or nuts. Not too many nuts or salt, they aggravate Kapha. Before I go to bed I have a cup of Yogi Mother-To-Be tea, which is satisfyingly sweet in itself after ignoring the cheesecake for a week.
And thaaat's pretty much been it. Okay, I admit, a couple nights I've eaten a package of ramen noodles for something solid to stave off the midnight munchies (I am still a pregnant human!), but fuck da packet, I flavor it myself. Even with those little speed bumps I feel great, lighter, and the infection is gone! I combine the food routine (I hate the word diet) with a nightly apple cider vinegar bath, which is the perfect balancing nightcap. But I do not want to fall back into the icky food trap because the same old shit (literally) will happen all over again. At the same time I know I must aim for balance and not reject all Kapha foods. Unless that is what balances me? I'm still not sure on a lot of the details. I wish I had my own personal Indian guy in my kitchen.
I've noticed this week that my body and baby begins to crave whatever it is I've grown accustomed to eating. I don't have wild needs for the things I ate two weeks ago that must be met; I can sensibly discern what I eat. Whereas the first two months of pregnancy I had to eat everything just to keep the nausea at bay, now is a calm, lovely time for introspection; I'm not tyrannized by my hormones. Though who knows what's to come between now and April?
I'm understanding that not everyone may tune into this like I do, and they can eat whatever the hell they've always eaten with little to no surface problems, but I am thankful my body grows more and more sensitive to what I put in it. I am so glad I have these built-in bio-spirit spark plugs! Even if I stray a certain distance, I can always come back. I'd rather change my routine when needed than allow it to eventually manifest as serious disease. Indeed I believe everyone has these internal catalysts for change, you just have to have a desire to feel them. Like Jesus.
Much love, light, and health in the New Year!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Sunday Morning Madness and Stillness
Well, it's a grey Sunday morning, and the Christmas spirit is winding down. So far I have avoided the post-Christmas depression as I've been occupying my mind with my new Ayurveda book and cute clothes. However, I know when my sister Kim gets on her flight back to Florida tomorrow, it will really be over, and then what will I do with myself? Well, I do have this baby still growing in my belly, and at this point it's fun to begin visualizing my birth and other decisions regarding his ultimate well-being. Only three more months!
I woke up to a quiet downstairs apartment around 10:30 and listened in to the noisy upstairs. I'm not allowed up there until this afternoon because today is my baby shower! Mom, Peter, and Kim are hard at work up there preparing for the festivities, All That Is bless 'em! Allison's just peeled herself out of bed and the bathroom to join them shortly. Mike's still sleeping (silly wabbit stays up much too late!), so I took to my crisp new cerulean blue yoga mat and did a few exercises I hadn't done in far too many days. The cat-cow yoga stretch is one of the best for a preggo, and indeed it does feel amazing. I feel it stretch and make room in my belly for the baby as well as strengthen my back and elongate my neck. Yummy tummy. I hear it's great during labor.
I moved on to my old Pilates leg routine, the usual thing: leg raises, bicycles, circles, as well as a little move I made up myself that reeeeally squeezes that saddlebag area. Want me to explain it to you? Great! So you're lying on your side, one hip raised and stacked over the other as with your other leg exercises, and you just pivot that hip up and down. Turn the knee up, knee to the side, squeeze the knee up, gently squeeze to the side, squeeze up, to the side. If my body were an artist's rendition of itself, that hard-to-work outer flank would be sweating, and there'd be some scientific-looking circles sketched around the leg, back and forth. I've experimented with the breathing a little bit with this move, and I usually just breathe normally because the movement is rather quick. Though feel free to play with it, slow it down, and correspond the breath to the movement if you like.
I continued my routine with a series of slow, relaxing breaths (did you read my last post?) and quickly became inspired to research the Lamaze breathing technique. I'd had this perception that Lamaze went hand-in-hand with a medicalized, hospital birth, a breath that wasn't particularly conscious but more so a hopeless attempt to simply ease the pain of labor. I've come to learn that that is not--or was not--the original design behind it. Dr. Ferdinand Lamaze outlined the labor breath specifically for the assistance in natural births, to avoid the need for pain medication. I never really connected with the "hee hee hoo" when I saw it being futilely performed in movies where sweating, writhing, laboring women only attempt it for mere seconds at the comic behest of their anxious (and completely terrified) male partners. The atmosphere is always chaotic, and the mother never gets a snowball's chance in Hell of relaxing and delivering her baby naturally. Well, I need to learn that the media does not ever show an accurate depiction of the pregnancy or birth process, and as a real pregnant woman, I must consciously set aside those misconceptions and take everything from the ground up (a routine hospital birth being the first I shunned!). The rapid "hee hee hoo" is really a conscious method of delivering more oxygen to the blood than your everyday involuntary breath, which reminds me of the Breath of Fire from the Kundalini Yoga practice. When partnered with three other types of relaxing breaths to be employed between contractions, the "hee hee hoo" is apparently quite effective in managing contraction pain. It is not to be mistaken as an attempt to eliminate the pain of childbirth, but rather a method of effectively withstanding the natural pain, which is an all-encompassing rite of passage, and focusing on the most important part of labor, which is relaxation. When you relax, the baby relaxes, and your body delivers him much more easily.
So I don't know if I'm going to seek out a Lamaze class or if I'll simply listen to my body as it happens. I'm not new to breathing exercises, and I understand the power of the breath, so either way I know I'll be just fine. I trust my body will tell me if it could use a "hee hee hoo" or something else.
Oh gawwwd, then my mind wandered on over to circumcision. This is a topic neither Mike nor I had definitely said one way or another we had decided on. In my gut I knew it was not necessary and indeed quite traumatic for the infant. The foreskin does have a biological purpose, including protecting the sensitive head and keeping out infection. But I was also considering the idea that it is such a socially expected aesthetic procedure, and also I'd want him to look like his father (he's cut). But the aesthetic aspect of it was the only reason I could come up with in support of this (disgusting!) custom. I watched two videos of live circumcisions on infants, and I am totally horrified. It's not like on TV (once again, that misleading media) where the doctor (or rabbi) stands over him, snips real quick, and it's done. No, it's over five minutes of terror and screaming with no mollification from either parent. It involves clamps and scissors and scalpels, and at the end the little head of the penis is bloody and exposed in an unnatural way, like a layer of skin has literally been ripped off, and that just ain't right! There are multiple risks to the operation, including infection. Ummmm, no thanks. I hope our son thanks us too when we show him what could have been!
So that's my day so far. Now everybody is upstairs getting ready for the shower, so I'd better get ready and take a shower. I stink!
Much love, y'all
I woke up to a quiet downstairs apartment around 10:30 and listened in to the noisy upstairs. I'm not allowed up there until this afternoon because today is my baby shower! Mom, Peter, and Kim are hard at work up there preparing for the festivities, All That Is bless 'em! Allison's just peeled herself out of bed and the bathroom to join them shortly. Mike's still sleeping (silly wabbit stays up much too late!), so I took to my crisp new cerulean blue yoga mat and did a few exercises I hadn't done in far too many days. The cat-cow yoga stretch is one of the best for a preggo, and indeed it does feel amazing. I feel it stretch and make room in my belly for the baby as well as strengthen my back and elongate my neck. Yummy tummy. I hear it's great during labor.
I moved on to my old Pilates leg routine, the usual thing: leg raises, bicycles, circles, as well as a little move I made up myself that reeeeally squeezes that saddlebag area. Want me to explain it to you? Great! So you're lying on your side, one hip raised and stacked over the other as with your other leg exercises, and you just pivot that hip up and down. Turn the knee up, knee to the side, squeeze the knee up, gently squeeze to the side, squeeze up, to the side. If my body were an artist's rendition of itself, that hard-to-work outer flank would be sweating, and there'd be some scientific-looking circles sketched around the leg, back and forth. I've experimented with the breathing a little bit with this move, and I usually just breathe normally because the movement is rather quick. Though feel free to play with it, slow it down, and correspond the breath to the movement if you like.
I continued my routine with a series of slow, relaxing breaths (did you read my last post?) and quickly became inspired to research the Lamaze breathing technique. I'd had this perception that Lamaze went hand-in-hand with a medicalized, hospital birth, a breath that wasn't particularly conscious but more so a hopeless attempt to simply ease the pain of labor. I've come to learn that that is not--or was not--the original design behind it. Dr. Ferdinand Lamaze outlined the labor breath specifically for the assistance in natural births, to avoid the need for pain medication. I never really connected with the "hee hee hoo" when I saw it being futilely performed in movies where sweating, writhing, laboring women only attempt it for mere seconds at the comic behest of their anxious (and completely terrified) male partners. The atmosphere is always chaotic, and the mother never gets a snowball's chance in Hell of relaxing and delivering her baby naturally. Well, I need to learn that the media does not ever show an accurate depiction of the pregnancy or birth process, and as a real pregnant woman, I must consciously set aside those misconceptions and take everything from the ground up (a routine hospital birth being the first I shunned!). The rapid "hee hee hoo" is really a conscious method of delivering more oxygen to the blood than your everyday involuntary breath, which reminds me of the Breath of Fire from the Kundalini Yoga practice. When partnered with three other types of relaxing breaths to be employed between contractions, the "hee hee hoo" is apparently quite effective in managing contraction pain. It is not to be mistaken as an attempt to eliminate the pain of childbirth, but rather a method of effectively withstanding the natural pain, which is an all-encompassing rite of passage, and focusing on the most important part of labor, which is relaxation. When you relax, the baby relaxes, and your body delivers him much more easily.
So I don't know if I'm going to seek out a Lamaze class or if I'll simply listen to my body as it happens. I'm not new to breathing exercises, and I understand the power of the breath, so either way I know I'll be just fine. I trust my body will tell me if it could use a "hee hee hoo" or something else.
Oh gawwwd, then my mind wandered on over to circumcision. This is a topic neither Mike nor I had definitely said one way or another we had decided on. In my gut I knew it was not necessary and indeed quite traumatic for the infant. The foreskin does have a biological purpose, including protecting the sensitive head and keeping out infection. But I was also considering the idea that it is such a socially expected aesthetic procedure, and also I'd want him to look like his father (he's cut). But the aesthetic aspect of it was the only reason I could come up with in support of this (disgusting!) custom. I watched two videos of live circumcisions on infants, and I am totally horrified. It's not like on TV (once again, that misleading media) where the doctor (or rabbi) stands over him, snips real quick, and it's done. No, it's over five minutes of terror and screaming with no mollification from either parent. It involves clamps and scissors and scalpels, and at the end the little head of the penis is bloody and exposed in an unnatural way, like a layer of skin has literally been ripped off, and that just ain't right! There are multiple risks to the operation, including infection. Ummmm, no thanks. I hope our son thanks us too when we show him what could have been!
So that's my day so far. Now everybody is upstairs getting ready for the shower, so I'd better get ready and take a shower. I stink!
Much love, y'all
Saturday, December 26, 2009
The Longer the Breath, the Longer the Life?
Could the Fountain of Youth really exist within ourselves and our control? Do you believe the longevity of one's natural lifespan correlates to the number and length of one's breaths?
Through various experiences and studies it's come to my attention that the number of breaths a being takes is inversely proportional to the length of one's life. Take, for example, the giant tortoise. These slow, still creatures are not just the moral subjects of storybooks and fables. An average tortoise takes about four breaths per minute, and its average lifespan is anywhere between 100-150 years. Wise old men (and women)! The oldest tortoise ever recorded was 188 years old at its death. I've been thinking of this tortoise example for a couple years and was reminded of it in Paramahansa Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi. He got me thinking about it again. Just today I was noticing my dog Jack's breathing, and it seems he may take 50-60 breaths per minute (all that happy panting!). And too well do most of us know how unfortunately short a dog's life may be. I'd love to see him reach 15! Humans, depending on the attention they pay to their breath, take between 7-20 breaths in a minute, with an average lifespan ranging somewhere in the 70s-80s. As you can imagine, small animals and rodents' rapid heart rates and momentary lifespans fit beautifully into this theory.
I've been pondering this concept for a while, and it makes perfect sense to me. Most of us have realized that the length of our breath (how slow or fast you take it) corresponds to the speed of our heartbeat. But have you gone so far as to conjecture that the slower the breath, the slower the beat, the lower the blood pressure? We've all been subject to America's obsession with blood pressure though, haven't we? We've been inundated with things like "Talk to your doctor about blood pressure medication," or "go low-sodium" or "cut out red meat." But in reality there is a cost-free, highly effective, rather enjoyable way to lower the blood pressure, reduce stress, and prolong your life. It's called taking a full breath.
Even the idea of taking calm, slow breaths has been removed from the zeitgeist and designated for the likes of healthy hippies, Indian sages and self-help seminars. I've found in my experience that no one believes me when I recommend that they start focusing on their breath in order to lessen their anxiety and reduce their stress. There are plenty of people in my life that could do with a little anti-anxiety treatment, but I never suggest medication. "When you're feeling overwhelmed and scared, just focus on taking slow, even breaths. Not only will it physiologically calm you, but you will only have room in your mind for one thing, your breath, and nothing else can penetrate." But for some reason it's like they think I'm asking them to get into Downward Dog and do the splits for me.
But if it's scientific proof they want, I'll give it to 'em. Let me start with your chromosomes (you know, the Xs or Y you get from your parents). At the ends of your chromosomes there are little bundles of DNA called telomeres, which not only act as little caps to the bottle of information contained within your chromosomes, they determine the aging and vitality of your cells. And it is after all essentially the destruction of cells that eventually kills us. As the telomeres shorten, the whole structure breaks down, and thus, the death of the cell. Well, let me tell ya, telomeres love this little enzyme called telomerase, which is like a sip of mojo juice for your cells. Telomerase repairs and lengthens the telomeres, thus extending the life of them. Thus, extending the life of you.
So, got it so far? Well it all circles back to this study conducted by the Preventative Medicine Institute of Sausalito and the University of CA, San Francisco. They concluded that the practice of daily deep breathing, along with other positive lifestyle changes, increases the production of telomerase. In other studies where added breathing exercises was the only variable, the conclusions were the same in that the results had a positive effect on general health and longevity. Telomerase is essential in managing stress. Everyone's finally been hearing in the last few years that stress can kill you, and it is only too true. When the body is under stress it produces a hormone called Cortisol, which is a killer (literally) for telomeres. Cortisol shortens the telomeres at an alarming rate and kills the cell faster than nature intended. So what's the treatment for Cortisol? Telomerase. But oh goody, these fancy words do not come in a pill!
This makes me wonder about things like high vs. low impact exercise. Does a marathon runner live a shorter life because he must breathe faster? Does that mean a 500-lb. woman lives longer because she doesn't move? Then I am reminded that the fat woman probably takes more breaths because her blood pressure is already so high and her lungs are compressed by her excess fat, and the marathon runner makes it a point to practice and regulate his breathing. I, however, will probably maintain my Pilates and yoga routine--break a sweat but don't kill myself doing it.
So, now you know the facts (I wish I could demonstrate the sign language for 'fact', I just learned a lot of fun ones today. But back to the topic at hand--->). Love them and ponder them or hate them or forget them. Do what you will. At least you have some interesting information to share at your next book club meeting or angry protest.
Through various experiences and studies it's come to my attention that the number of breaths a being takes is inversely proportional to the length of one's life. Take, for example, the giant tortoise. These slow, still creatures are not just the moral subjects of storybooks and fables. An average tortoise takes about four breaths per minute, and its average lifespan is anywhere between 100-150 years. Wise old men (and women)! The oldest tortoise ever recorded was 188 years old at its death. I've been thinking of this tortoise example for a couple years and was reminded of it in Paramahansa Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi. He got me thinking about it again. Just today I was noticing my dog Jack's breathing, and it seems he may take 50-60 breaths per minute (all that happy panting!). And too well do most of us know how unfortunately short a dog's life may be. I'd love to see him reach 15! Humans, depending on the attention they pay to their breath, take between 7-20 breaths in a minute, with an average lifespan ranging somewhere in the 70s-80s. As you can imagine, small animals and rodents' rapid heart rates and momentary lifespans fit beautifully into this theory.
I've been pondering this concept for a while, and it makes perfect sense to me. Most of us have realized that the length of our breath (how slow or fast you take it) corresponds to the speed of our heartbeat. But have you gone so far as to conjecture that the slower the breath, the slower the beat, the lower the blood pressure? We've all been subject to America's obsession with blood pressure though, haven't we? We've been inundated with things like "Talk to your doctor about blood pressure medication," or "go low-sodium" or "cut out red meat." But in reality there is a cost-free, highly effective, rather enjoyable way to lower the blood pressure, reduce stress, and prolong your life. It's called taking a full breath.
Even the idea of taking calm, slow breaths has been removed from the zeitgeist and designated for the likes of healthy hippies, Indian sages and self-help seminars. I've found in my experience that no one believes me when I recommend that they start focusing on their breath in order to lessen their anxiety and reduce their stress. There are plenty of people in my life that could do with a little anti-anxiety treatment, but I never suggest medication. "When you're feeling overwhelmed and scared, just focus on taking slow, even breaths. Not only will it physiologically calm you, but you will only have room in your mind for one thing, your breath, and nothing else can penetrate." But for some reason it's like they think I'm asking them to get into Downward Dog and do the splits for me.
But if it's scientific proof they want, I'll give it to 'em. Let me start with your chromosomes (you know, the Xs or Y you get from your parents). At the ends of your chromosomes there are little bundles of DNA called telomeres, which not only act as little caps to the bottle of information contained within your chromosomes, they determine the aging and vitality of your cells. And it is after all essentially the destruction of cells that eventually kills us. As the telomeres shorten, the whole structure breaks down, and thus, the death of the cell. Well, let me tell ya, telomeres love this little enzyme called telomerase, which is like a sip of mojo juice for your cells. Telomerase repairs and lengthens the telomeres, thus extending the life of them. Thus, extending the life of you.
So, got it so far? Well it all circles back to this study conducted by the Preventative Medicine Institute of Sausalito and the University of CA, San Francisco. They concluded that the practice of daily deep breathing, along with other positive lifestyle changes, increases the production of telomerase. In other studies where added breathing exercises was the only variable, the conclusions were the same in that the results had a positive effect on general health and longevity. Telomerase is essential in managing stress. Everyone's finally been hearing in the last few years that stress can kill you, and it is only too true. When the body is under stress it produces a hormone called Cortisol, which is a killer (literally) for telomeres. Cortisol shortens the telomeres at an alarming rate and kills the cell faster than nature intended. So what's the treatment for Cortisol? Telomerase. But oh goody, these fancy words do not come in a pill!
This makes me wonder about things like high vs. low impact exercise. Does a marathon runner live a shorter life because he must breathe faster? Does that mean a 500-lb. woman lives longer because she doesn't move? Then I am reminded that the fat woman probably takes more breaths because her blood pressure is already so high and her lungs are compressed by her excess fat, and the marathon runner makes it a point to practice and regulate his breathing. I, however, will probably maintain my Pilates and yoga routine--break a sweat but don't kill myself doing it.
So, now you know the facts (I wish I could demonstrate the sign language for 'fact', I just learned a lot of fun ones today. But back to the topic at hand--->). Love them and ponder them or hate them or forget them. Do what you will. At least you have some interesting information to share at your next book club meeting or angry protest.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
I Love Coconut Oil!
I have for quite some time, but it's only occurred to me now to write about it. I just love coconut oil. I really do. It is by far the choicest oil out there. Its multi-purpose demeanor and sweet, subtle scent make it irresistible for anyone approaching the bandwagon.
Science may falter a whole helluva lot, but not when it comes to this oil. Coconut oil is a saturated fat, which is not a bad thing like its name connotes! It was only in the 20th century when the whole "anti-saturated fat" movement began that coconut and other tropical oils became feared as "unhealthy," when indeed they were replaced with scientifically less healthy polyunsaturated fats, such as canola, soybean, safflower and corn oils. I guess western culture just loves their "un", "anti", "low," "zero," and "de" products, if for no other reason than psychologically. As a result of the pro-unsaturated fat diet, Americans have largely abandoned the intake of these healthy oils and butter, opting for margarine and grain oils. The chemical compounds of these replacement products are not broken down so easily and actually tend to become rancid in the body. This in turn creates congestion all over the body, i.e. heart disease, colon malfunction, high cholesterol, cancer, etc.
Coconut oil is making a comeback, however! The recognizable health benefits abound: it has antioxidant properties (reducing rancidity and the need for vitamin E), directly stimulates the thyroid (which keeps you lean and active, yum!), is antiviral, antimicrobial and antibacterial. And in this terrible cancer study I read about, conducted in 1987, a group of scientists chemically induced cancer in "the subjects"/aka animals. One group was fed corn oils and the other coconut oil. 32% of the corn group got the cancer whereas only 3% of the coconut group got it. What large protective qualities you have, Coconut Oil!
But besides all that science stuff, it just feels good. It is technically a "superfood," which according to superfood expert David Wolfe, contains several proverbial "tricks up its sleeve," instead of just one or two. I outlined several of them above, so don't you forget em! No but really, in the practical sense, I use coconut oil for all of my moisturizing needs. I leave it in the kitchen and the bathroom (or bedroom, depending on where I'm slathering myself). With a high smoking point it is perfect for cooking and baking. Every day my eggs have a slightly sweet tinge. And on the skin and hair? Divine! It is extremely good for them--not only is it a far better moisturizer than any cream you can buy in a bottle, you get all of that goodness without the harmful product chemicals! You don't have to smell like a vat of tangy shit! I use it every day and my skin is like buttah. Buttah! Pluuuuuus, ladiezzzz, if and when you are pregnant, I couldn't imagine a better stretch mark preventative. The fatty acids elasticize the skin. Ooh baby. P.S. just don't put it in a squirt bottle; it turns to a butter-like solid at 76 degrees.
I recommend picking up a jar of virgin coconut oil (raw, unprocessed) today. Or tomorrow. Well, tomorrow's Christmas, so maybe Saturday. It's slightly more expensive than those gross polyunsaturated fats (online is cheaper--only $20.99 for a 54-oz jar on Amazon!), but it is more than worth it. I wish I myself were selling coconut oil so I could profit from it, but I'm not, I just want to spread the joy coconut oil has brought to my life (and unknowingly to those around me bwahaha). Love!
Science may falter a whole helluva lot, but not when it comes to this oil. Coconut oil is a saturated fat, which is not a bad thing like its name connotes! It was only in the 20th century when the whole "anti-saturated fat" movement began that coconut and other tropical oils became feared as "unhealthy," when indeed they were replaced with scientifically less healthy polyunsaturated fats, such as canola, soybean, safflower and corn oils. I guess western culture just loves their "un", "anti", "low," "zero," and "de" products, if for no other reason than psychologically. As a result of the pro-unsaturated fat diet, Americans have largely abandoned the intake of these healthy oils and butter, opting for margarine and grain oils. The chemical compounds of these replacement products are not broken down so easily and actually tend to become rancid in the body. This in turn creates congestion all over the body, i.e. heart disease, colon malfunction, high cholesterol, cancer, etc.
Coconut oil is making a comeback, however! The recognizable health benefits abound: it has antioxidant properties (reducing rancidity and the need for vitamin E), directly stimulates the thyroid (which keeps you lean and active, yum!), is antiviral, antimicrobial and antibacterial. And in this terrible cancer study I read about, conducted in 1987, a group of scientists chemically induced cancer in "the subjects"/aka animals. One group was fed corn oils and the other coconut oil. 32% of the corn group got the cancer whereas only 3% of the coconut group got it. What large protective qualities you have, Coconut Oil!
But besides all that science stuff, it just feels good. It is technically a "superfood," which according to superfood expert David Wolfe, contains several proverbial "tricks up its sleeve," instead of just one or two. I outlined several of them above, so don't you forget em! No but really, in the practical sense, I use coconut oil for all of my moisturizing needs. I leave it in the kitchen and the bathroom (or bedroom, depending on where I'm slathering myself). With a high smoking point it is perfect for cooking and baking. Every day my eggs have a slightly sweet tinge. And on the skin and hair? Divine! It is extremely good for them--not only is it a far better moisturizer than any cream you can buy in a bottle, you get all of that goodness without the harmful product chemicals! You don't have to smell like a vat of tangy shit! I use it every day and my skin is like buttah. Buttah! Pluuuuuus, ladiezzzz, if and when you are pregnant, I couldn't imagine a better stretch mark preventative. The fatty acids elasticize the skin. Ooh baby. P.S. just don't put it in a squirt bottle; it turns to a butter-like solid at 76 degrees.
I recommend picking up a jar of virgin coconut oil (raw, unprocessed) today. Or tomorrow. Well, tomorrow's Christmas, so maybe Saturday. It's slightly more expensive than those gross polyunsaturated fats (online is cheaper--only $20.99 for a 54-oz jar on Amazon!), but it is more than worth it. I wish I myself were selling coconut oil so I could profit from it, but I'm not, I just want to spread the joy coconut oil has brought to my life (and unknowingly to those around me bwahaha). Love!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Wasted Effort
(Okay, this blog was written on Saturday, so let's pretend it's still Saturday.)
It's 12:30 on this blustery, blizzardy Saturday, and where am I on this fateful night? The fate of the night being that after thirteen sometimes flawless sometimes miraculous victories, the New Orleans Saints have just lost their first game of the season. So, ahem, where am I, you ask? Not crying into a cold beer like I'd like (well, like Mike and Allison would like--I'm pregnant and agonizingly sober). And why are these young patriots being robbed of their birthright to do anything they want anytime they want? Because the suburbs of Boston apparently do not sell any alcohol past 11pm on Saturdays, much less any day of the week! No Bud, no Beast! And it calls itself an Irish community!
The three of us spent a difficult three hours retching and writhing in front of the big screen upstairs, at first carefree and happy to finally catch a Saints game on a TV screen in this part of the country (thanks for your pretty pictures, NFL Network), but the cares quickly crept up as the Dallas Cowboys charged down the field, over and over and over again, plowing over the defense, offense, poor wittle Drew Brees, and the indefatigable New Orleanian spirit over and over and over again. It was painful--but in the 4th quarter, the Saints at an unlikely but not unconquerable point disadvantage, they started to come back. Things were looking up in an almost religiously miraculous way, as they always had this season, and then, with 12 seconds on the clock, they fumble, turn over the ball, and choke and lose it and die. Goodbye, perfect season.
Meanwhile Mike and Allison are throwing back the martinis nervously, oblivious to the absentminded sipping. For some reason I am designated the--wouldn't ya know it--"Designated Bartender," and every time I return from the kitchen with another round, Allison is in a more profound state of droopiness. It's funny until the commercial break ends and another butterfingers on the Saints side drops the ball. Anywho, once the reality kicks in that the game is over, that the hopes of a perfect season are dashed, all anyone wants is a cold one. These two are getting vodka sloppy and I pray for a less concentrated nightcap.
When I finish sobbing violently into Mike's shoulder, they convince me we must go out and get beer. Who cares that the blizzard is moving through and I for one haven't seen snow in over two years and really just want to sit rigidly by myself and cry and wonder why I am really so bothered by this emotional letdown? No, we must get beer! Okay. I'm not gonna stand around in my scarf and boots forever. Let's go.
And it is quite the bitch outside! There's already over an inch of snow, albeit fluffy, wet, and not yet icy. We maneuver through the blankets of falling snow like three grandmas in an Oldsmobile, just up to the gas station two blocks away. And can you believe it, they don't sell beer! We continue on grudgingly, finally fishtailing into the Stop n Shop parking lot which contains a liquor store. And it's closed! Just past midnight! Foiled again! We try once more, doe-and-bleary-eyed. And that shit is locked up like a warehouse during the off-season in Bogota.
So these two, not to mention my tired and bloated ass, are peeved that this so-called modern city is antagonistic toward the responsible sale and consumption of alcohol well before bar-closing time. What, if we want to drink alcohol we should go to a bar? You want we should drink and drive and get in a brawl? What if after a heartbreaking Saturday night special presentation of Thursday Night Football I want to drown my sorrows (or watch my loved ones do as such) in the privacy and comfort and safety of my own home? You don't want to see any of us right now, I tell you that! Well, maybe Allison, she's a card and isn't emotionally attached to tonight's turn of events. But she is pretty loud. It's a give and take.
So really, WHAT is up, Weymouth? Or, as Mike says, "Way out of the Wey-mouth!" Way out of the way of making any sort of sense! Now I have to endure these kids playing grab ass with the liquor cabinet while debating the legitimacy of the destruction of the Death Star at an annoyingly aggressive tone while I wallow in the Saints' loss and the reality of three sets of taper candles I hand-dipped earlier that look like uncircumcised penises! Harmph!
It's 12:30 on this blustery, blizzardy Saturday, and where am I on this fateful night? The fate of the night being that after thirteen sometimes flawless sometimes miraculous victories, the New Orleans Saints have just lost their first game of the season. So, ahem, where am I, you ask? Not crying into a cold beer like I'd like (well, like Mike and Allison would like--I'm pregnant and agonizingly sober). And why are these young patriots being robbed of their birthright to do anything they want anytime they want? Because the suburbs of Boston apparently do not sell any alcohol past 11pm on Saturdays, much less any day of the week! No Bud, no Beast! And it calls itself an Irish community!
The three of us spent a difficult three hours retching and writhing in front of the big screen upstairs, at first carefree and happy to finally catch a Saints game on a TV screen in this part of the country (thanks for your pretty pictures, NFL Network), but the cares quickly crept up as the Dallas Cowboys charged down the field, over and over and over again, plowing over the defense, offense, poor wittle Drew Brees, and the indefatigable New Orleanian spirit over and over and over again. It was painful--but in the 4th quarter, the Saints at an unlikely but not unconquerable point disadvantage, they started to come back. Things were looking up in an almost religiously miraculous way, as they always had this season, and then, with 12 seconds on the clock, they fumble, turn over the ball, and choke and lose it and die. Goodbye, perfect season.
Meanwhile Mike and Allison are throwing back the martinis nervously, oblivious to the absentminded sipping. For some reason I am designated the--wouldn't ya know it--"Designated Bartender," and every time I return from the kitchen with another round, Allison is in a more profound state of droopiness. It's funny until the commercial break ends and another butterfingers on the Saints side drops the ball. Anywho, once the reality kicks in that the game is over, that the hopes of a perfect season are dashed, all anyone wants is a cold one. These two are getting vodka sloppy and I pray for a less concentrated nightcap.
When I finish sobbing violently into Mike's shoulder, they convince me we must go out and get beer. Who cares that the blizzard is moving through and I for one haven't seen snow in over two years and really just want to sit rigidly by myself and cry and wonder why I am really so bothered by this emotional letdown? No, we must get beer! Okay. I'm not gonna stand around in my scarf and boots forever. Let's go.
And it is quite the bitch outside! There's already over an inch of snow, albeit fluffy, wet, and not yet icy. We maneuver through the blankets of falling snow like three grandmas in an Oldsmobile, just up to the gas station two blocks away. And can you believe it, they don't sell beer! We continue on grudgingly, finally fishtailing into the Stop n Shop parking lot which contains a liquor store. And it's closed! Just past midnight! Foiled again! We try once more, doe-and-bleary-eyed. And that shit is locked up like a warehouse during the off-season in Bogota.
So these two, not to mention my tired and bloated ass, are peeved that this so-called modern city is antagonistic toward the responsible sale and consumption of alcohol well before bar-closing time. What, if we want to drink alcohol we should go to a bar? You want we should drink and drive and get in a brawl? What if after a heartbreaking Saturday night special presentation of Thursday Night Football I want to drown my sorrows (or watch my loved ones do as such) in the privacy and comfort and safety of my own home? You don't want to see any of us right now, I tell you that! Well, maybe Allison, she's a card and isn't emotionally attached to tonight's turn of events. But she is pretty loud. It's a give and take.
So really, WHAT is up, Weymouth? Or, as Mike says, "Way out of the Wey-mouth!" Way out of the way of making any sort of sense! Now I have to endure these kids playing grab ass with the liquor cabinet while debating the legitimacy of the destruction of the Death Star at an annoyingly aggressive tone while I wallow in the Saints' loss and the reality of three sets of taper candles I hand-dipped earlier that look like uncircumcised penises! Harmph!
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