“The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off.”
~ Gloria Steinem
Yesterday was day two of our five day juice cleanse. If day one of a cleanse (of any sort) is shaking off the dust, day two is digging in deep and scrubbing everything out. Bryonie and I chatted on Skype throughout the day, both feeling a little disgruntled and “stabby.”
Day Two for Kate went like this:
6:09 a.m. I lay in bed staring at the clock, fighting with my inner two-year-old. I don’t want to go to yoga. I don’t want to go. I want to sleep.
I don’t want to go to yoga!
But I did. I dragged myself out of bed, had my water and lemon and hit the road. And it was perfect! I love all the teachers at my studio, but Suzanne has an especially keen ability to tune into the needs of the class that day. While I spent the whole drive there grumbling and considering turning around and heading home, the whole drive home I felt grounded and at peace.
Here’s the thing about day two of a cleanse:
Day one is like when kids start Kindergarten. Lalala, this is great! It’s sort of new and exciting. Then, day two is more like, F*ck you, juice cleanse. In fact, f*ck you, everyone! I just want to lay on my bed and listen to Bright Eyes and sigh a lot and write horrible emo poetry in my journal (which I may or may not have done—I admit nothing).
As I took time to sit with these feelings instead of distracting myself away from them, I realized something new about letting go.
Last week, as I continued my clean out in preparation for moving, I got rid of one of my shirts. Who cares, right? I had this shirt that I hated. I never wore it. It was too big and an unflattering color, but it was expensive, so I had been reluctant to get rid of it. I kept it, and it just sat there. Last week I brought it to Goodwill, deciding I wasn’t willing to move something that I knew I didn’t really want and wouldn’t use.
How many times do we keep things in our lives that don’t serve us because we are afraid to admit we made the wrong choice?
How many times are we reluctant to embrace new things because they don’t fit someone else’s prescribed notion of what our lives should be?
The past year for me has been about letting go of things that do not serve me, and choosing the things that resonate with my heart—even if they don’t make sense to those around me. Even if they are frightening. Even if I don’t know just how they fit.
(See…it’s about the juicing, but it’s not really just about the juicing.)
Best juice of yesterday? Strawberry, spinach and lemon:
5 large strawberries
Several big handfuls of spinach
With soft fruits and vegetables, I can get away with using the juice function of my Magic Bullet, though it’s not hearty enough to do apples or carrots. This was the perfect pick-me-up late afternoon, post-sulking and journaling.
Day Two for Bryonie went like this:Make mine a veggie burger…
Yesterday, I woke up with visions of food dancing through my aching head; hot, bothered, the animals surrounding me (they always know when something is going on and have been overly affectionate since I started the cleanse) my love far away, on his side of our gigantic bed and a dark, rainy day out of the window.
It was tiring, good heart work, to see and touch each object; to sit and decide whether it still felt like me, or if it was time to say goodbye.
Sometimes, we keep things past their life span with us, not recognizing when it’s time for them to either die their natural death, or be passed on to someone else.
There were a few things that I knew it was time to say goodbye to—the underwear that I bought and worn to my mother’s funeral, almost eight years ago—the pillow she had bought for me years before that and the ragged pillow case she had sewn to fit it’s odd shape.
(I had a moment with her favorite signed Celine Dion cd, and it actually managed to stay, for now.)
For a long time after she died, and even now, in some moments still, I feel guilty when I part with something that I think keeps me connected to her—I think that it’s the physical items that will continue to keep us connected and to keep her memory strong in my heart.
But what I’ve learned is that saying goodbye to the physical stuff actually frees me in a way that is almost indescribable—and far from separating me from her, it strengthens the connection I feel in my heart.
I don’t need the stuff to love—I just need my heart too.
I cleared layers of dust off our bookshelves, reorganizing them and taking the books off to dust around—and with each thing I consciously put back into place, I thanked it for being.
Purging stuff is exhausting work, both physically and emotionally—I could feel my body’s natural urge to fight through my fatigue to get just this one more thing done and just one more that thing done—until I stopped to remember the lesson from yesterday: kindness.
The choice to take some days off to juice and be with myself is a gift—not a punishment. This isn’t about seeing how far I can push myself—it’s about honoring and loving myself, from the inside out.
And I was stabby and cranky, too; sensitive creature that I am, the juicing amplifies my emotions and although I feel grounded, it also feels like everything is happening at once; I’m happy, sad, excited, depressed, thrilled and frustrated.
All of my emotions make an appearance and it’s not even a choice between laughing and crying, because they are the same.
In the backyard, I half-screamed, half-cried at my frustration of picking up after my neighbour’s dog, yet again; It’s just poop, I yelled out to nobody, except Winston, who was more interested in watching the tops of the trees move in the breeze; It’s just poop and I don’t understand why you won’t pick it up!
My love walked in the door, shortly after that, and as I hugged him I almost started to cry—I wanted him close and I wanted him far; I wanted everything and I wanted nothing.
What is amazing and beautiful to me is how much we can feel, think, do and be—when we dive to our depths we can see the dark corners and know that we must send love into them—when we see the light sprinkle a fairy-like dust on us, we know that that too, is love.
My favorite juice from yesterday: Evening Love
a handful of cashews
a bit of pineapple
a bunch of raspberries
a sprinkle of nutmeg and cinnamon
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