
This last week, I did a 72 hour water cleanse. It sounds silly when I think about going that long without any food. It sounds even more silly that I think I could even do something like that. I mean...I love food. I love sitting down at the beginning of the week and planning out what we are going to eat everyday. I love going the the co-op and buying all of the organic produce and grass fed meats to feed our family. I love listening to podcasts and watching reels on the newest healthy ways to eat and prepare meals. I am not content until the fridge is so well stocked there isn't any room for anything else to fit. For me, there is no better feeling than walking into the pantry and seeing everything in it's place. The canned goods all lined up, evenly spaced and facing forward, the bulk spices filled up in their glass jars, the pasta sitting right next to the jars of sauce, followed by the dried beans and lentils. Everything has it's place.
But when I mentioned in passing to my 23 year old son that I was thinking of doing a cleanse sometime this year, he looked at me and said, "great, let's start tomorrow."
Let's start tomorrow?
I mean....I was just thinking about doing it. I just went grocery shopping. The salmon is thawing. The dill is infusing in olive oil for the top. The sourdough starter is bubbling for the homemade pizza I was planning on making that everyone loves. I finally found a healthy recipe for margaritas that I wanted to try (sub lime juice and agave syrup for the mix). And there is football on this weekend. Think about the bacon wrapped dates, hot artichoke dip and and caprese salad we could be eating at halftime. How about next week?
But before I said that last part, it occurred to me that I started down the path that gets me nowhere. One I am all too familiar with. The one where I make excuses to not do something and start talking myself out of it before I have even started.
I mean I am good at it...this negotiating thing.
It has successfully gotten me out of going to the gym for the last three years running.
And although I have not made any new year's resolutions this year, I did secretly make a promise to myself that I was going to do hard things this year and stick with them. Mostly for mental discipline, but I also wanted to remind myself that I am trustworthy to myself. That if quietly say something that I want to do, I can trust myself enough to do it...no matter how challenging. No matter how much it sucks. No matter how much I really don't want to only drink water for the next four days.
So I stopped negotiating with myself and said yes. I charged my hydrogen water bottle, started roasting organic beef marrow bones in preparation for our after-fast bone broth detox, and then proceeded to threaten everyone in the household that if they even thought about cooking bacon, I wouldn't be held responsible for what might happen to them.
I think that was fair.
I went into this fast knowing I would be hungry. I went into this fast knowing that I would be tempted. I went into this fast knowing I would try and talk myself into eating just a little bit to get me through. I went into this fast knowing that the first scent of food cooking on the stove, I would want to throw in the towel and make myself a huge burger.
Which is why I had one guideline for the next 72 hours...
I will not negotiate with myself. I will not talk myself in or out of anything. Period.
Because what I found is this...it is easy to switch gears if I give myself the opportunity to negotiate. I can flip on a dime. If something sounds better, something eases the pain a little bit, or is more enjoyable...I am your girl. I have lived most of my life with the motto, "if it's not fun, then why do it?"
I mean, life is short, right?
But if I make a conscious decision to do something and take out any negotiations, then it becomes just a decision...a map...for how my day will go. How my week will go. Maybe even how my life will go. And that feels really good. I don't have to put any real thought behind it. I am just going to do it.
Don't get me wrong, it didn't necessarily make the next 72 hours any easier. But I did find that, as with everything else, it was more of a training of my mind then it was my body. Because when I actually focused on getting through the challenges of being hungry and sitting with the discomfort my body felt, knowing I was not going to give myself an out, something slightly shifted inside. It was a familiar feeling that has knocked on my door before over the years and was happy that it came back to visit me. It was the not-so-gentle reminder that I can sit with hard shit and be OK...that I can do this and not feel like I am losing my mind. Or if I do, that's ok because I can experience things that are not easy and I am still here. Somewhere in the mess of it all, (and not eating for 72 hours felt messy), it's still me. I can push myself through the discomfort, fall apart and put myself back together. I have done it countless times before.
And I know you have too.
It's sometimes how we survive. It sometimes how we just get through the day. Knowing we have been here a million times before. Knowing we will be here again. And knowing that no matter how uncomfortable things feel, we can just sit with that and be OK. Even if it feels like we're not.
And knowing that feels good most of the time.
And when it doesn't, I have found that it's generally because I feel like I am falling back into old patterns of coping. One's that have deep roots and are hard to unlearn. The strong pull to run away from my issues, distract myself from the bullshit, stay quiet so that I don't create waves. The impulse to put you first while ignoring my needs, to shift into someone you might like better, to look the other way instead of confront your disrespect. The desire to throw myself into meaningless work to stay busy, not get enough sleep, eat way too much ice cream (not this week, but the urge is real) and binge watch Netflix until I fall asleep in the clothes I have been wearing for the last two days. It's not a pretty sight.
But fortunately, those times are far and few between these days. I have learned and even embraced my voice, especially when I am speaking to myself. I know what I need from you and what I can give you and I am all about the balance. I am strong enough to support you and vulnerable enough to let myself lean on you. I can communicate my needs so that you will never have to guess what makes me happy. Or sad. I eat well, sleep plenty and spend lots of time with the people that I love. I am loyal and fierce and dedicated to a drama free little existence. My boundary game is strong and don't have much time if yours is not, especially when it affects me. I have created a life, that most of the time, feels pretty insulated from the outside world...and that's the way I like it.
But there is always a wildcard in the group. A sideswipe you weren't counting on. A sucker punch you didn't see coming. A rug pulled out from underneath you when you had your back turned. And unfortunately, there probably always will be.
But that story is for another time.
For the time being, I'll carry this lesson with me throughout the year: negotiating with yourself will undermine these great achievements you were on your way to accomplishing. Think of the possibilities of all we could do if we just stop talking ourselves out of doing things that aren't easy. Think of the lessons we can learn if we just sit with these hard things and just let them be. Just feel them, let them go and move on. It's a mental game at this point. You against you. And it only took me 72 hours and 6 gallons of water to learn that.
I needed this. Thank you ❤️