Lots to say: cleansing, reframing, and hooping

I have a lot to say and am not totally sure how to say it.

First things first, the cleanse continues. I’m actually in the most stringent part. Green smoothie for breakfast, one for lunch, and another for dinner. Then I have a big salad post dinner with red leaf lettuce, shredded zucchini, beet and carrot slaw, olive oil, lemon, green beans, and cultured veggies. Last night I threw in a cup of roasted delicata squash. Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? It’s delicious. And more importantly, it’s gorgeous – the plate a veritable explosion of colors, especially give that the cultured veggies is a beautiful bright pink thanks to the red cabbage that turns into flamingo pink after sitting for a week in brine at room temperature.

A few days ago, I had hit an interesting place with the cleanse. I was forgetting my supplements, I was forgetting my cultured veggies (to be eaten at every meal). At the time, I attributed it to ambivalence, but now I’m thinking that it was more like simple forgetfulness. It was almost like I forgot I was on a cleanse.

I haven’t been hungry. I’ve a ton of energy. But more importantly, I’ve had my mind on other things.

Michael was away for several days and I had plenty of time to dig old information products off of my hard drive for recycling. A couple of them talked about making space in your life – by literally throwing shit away. One woman recommended throwing five things away every day. You know, like a game. I decided to give it a shot.

The next morning, I got up, totally psyched. I pulled out every thing that didn’t fit (that was either too big or too small). I also tried everything on and got rid of anything that “didn’t serve me.” Notice I didn’t say that was worn out or frayed, but things that didn’t serve me. The idea of only keeping things that serve you is an interesting one. I ended up getting rid of things that I had worn once, or not at all. Most often things that I had bought on sale in response to an unintended weight gain (as if there is any other type). After pulling two trash bags worth of clothes out of my closet, my next stop was the chests of drawers, which were, I am embarrassed to say, teeming with things that 1) I didn’t remember, 2) I hadn’t been able to find in years, and 3) didn’t serve me. And in that moment, I learned the importance of location based living (I hope Michael’s not reading this, or he might try to hold me to this), because if I can’t find it, it’s not serving me.

I found shirts, skirts, jewelry, slips, socks, hair clips, pony tail ties, jackets, jeans…. It was crazy. Another extra large trash bag got packed for Listen.

I also got rid of shoes, empty shoe boxes, belts, pajama tops, and coats.

And then I organized. For the first time in months, if not years, I can actually see what I have when I look in the closet, in the drawers. It’s glorious.

Then onto stuff: framed posters that have lived in the closet for two years, hangers, shoe racks, concert tickets, show strings, drafts of papers, cook books, a day timer from 2009, the list goes on.

And you know what’s scary? I don’t think Michael even noticed. But every day I get rid of five more things. Sometimes they’re small, sometimes they’re large.

And you know what’s amazing? I can feel the space in the house. As I shed the pounds of inorganic matter of the house, I am less concerned about the organic matter associated with my body…even though I know without a doubt that it’s all related.

And it’s not just the physical junk, but also the emotional and mental crap that I’ve been carrying around for years.

I stepped on a scale this morning: 152 pounds.

And instead of thinking automatically, “I can’t believe that I gained 20 pounds since last August,” I honestly thought, “Wow, I only weigh ten more pounds than I did when I was 16. How frickin’ cool is that?”

Something has shifted and I am so thrilled. It’s fun and easy and for the first time ever, I am in love with my body. I’m also enjoying it in a way I never have before….

Because when I’m not cleansing, or cleaning, or reframing the cleansing or the cleaning, I am hooping!

At the ripe old age of 41, I bought myself a huge multi-colored hula and we (my body and I) are having a blast! I have plenty to say about the hula (especially how it ties into my femininity), but suffice it to say that I’m having too much fun looking for the next five things and swinging my hips to whatever music strikes my fancy to worry too much about arbitrary numbers. In other words, I’m more interested in how many times I can get the hoop around my hips, how many songs I can last through (whether it’s Led Zeppelin, Sade, Linkin Park, or Melissa Etheridge) than I am the numbers on the scale.

Happy Hooping!

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