I’ve really lost track. I don’t know what day I’m on. I suppose I could make an effort to figure it out but it’s so interesting not knowing. Not blogging has also been interesting…in passing, the days since my previous update have included:
Waking up in the middle of the night with my thoughts just raging. Every negative thing I could think about myself just pouring out of my brain. It was agonizing. Suddenly this thought popped in: These are the stories you tell yourself. They are just stories. Maybe you need to tell yourself some new ones. I fell asleep peacefully shortly after that. I woke up in the morning having recently re-committed to a meditation practice (I’ve been incredibly lazy about it) and the first guided recording to come up was all about letting go of or re-creating your old stories. It was surprisingly un-cheesy and I really appreciated it.
A little stint with some caffeinated tea. I had a cup one morning and loved it- I got all buzzy, nearly lost my appetite for juice and therefore didn’t need to spend all day wishing for a bathroom which is the most agonizing part of my job. Of course, I had another (bigger) cup the next day. It picked me up to an uncomfortable, jittery high and dropped me to a barely functioning heap by evening. I literally felt hungover the next day.
Today…oh today…I’ve never felt so much conflict in my mind about continuing with this juice feast. If I could have recorded my brain over the course of the day it would have sounded something like this: I am so DONE with this juice feast, why didn’t I stop at day 60 when I really wanted to??…I really feel fine, I don’t know what else I’m possibly looking to accomplish…Well, maybe I’ll just hang on through the weekend (which I’m spending with Wellah) and then break…but I hate weird numbers, I should probably stop at 75 or something like that…oh my GOD I don’t think I can last beyond today, let alone through the weekend, let alone to DAY 90!!!…ok I’m feeling better, 90 is probably alright…no, no way, why did I every say I’d do this? Why did I blog about it? Why does everyone keep saying “I know you can do it!!” when all I want to do is scream at them, “Let me quit!!! (…and don’t be disappointed in me)”…ugh this whole thing is so pointless, am I just going to spend the next 4 weeks in utter misery, fighting with myself? Am I going to quit and be devastated over it?…
One of the things that makes juice feasting so difficult is that it makes everything so glaringly obvious. Everything I don’t want to look at, every area I’m unhappy with, everything I’m afraid of…it’s right there in front of me. When I’m eating, it’s easy to ignore things or let things continue long after I could have put a stop to them. It’s easy to tune out. I really can’t do that right now and I think I’m wondering if I can handle it.
A friend posted this to Facebook tonight from Martha Beck:
“Lately I’ve become thoroughly exasperated with the part of my tiny brain that insists on continuously creating fear. Fear of dying soon. Fear of living too long. Fear of being alone. Fear of being spread out too thin between loved ones. Fear of drought. Fear of flooding. Fear of change. Fear of things staying the same.
I’ve tried suppressing my fear. It gets stronger. I’ve tried looking for the bright side, which simply focuses my mind on the inevitable dark side. I’ve tried medication, meditation, mediation, and a host of other ations. None of them worked. But recently, I’ve discovered something that does.
Here’s the thing: we can’t save ourselves from fear by seeking safety, because safety always means there’s something to be safe from—in other words, something to fear. The way out of fear isn’t safety. It’s freedom.
For a few weeks, I’ve been replacing every fearful thought in my head with a loving-kindness wish to be free from that specific fear.
When I’m scared that all the polar bears will die, I don’t say “Keep the polar bears alive!” until I’ve said, “May I be free from my fear for the polar bears.”
When I’m sure I have some dire illness, I don’t think “I must be healthy forever!” I think, “May I be free from my fear of illness.”
When I miss someone, I don’t pester the person with needy phone calls. I think, “May I be free from my fear of separation.”
This request for freedom has been granted with subtle but remarkable power. I’ve had one of the calmest months on record. Freedom is landing me in peace, a state from which I function far more effectively—and safely—than anxiety. So feel free to try it. Really. Feel free.”
May I be free from the fear of continuing (or not continuing) this juice feast. May I be free from the fears of other people’s opinions and judgements either way.
Interestingly, just those thoughts loosened something up in me. Without my fears I don’t have a problem continuing. Let’s do this.