Day 8

I’ve been fasting on the Master Cleanse for eight days. I had no idea I had access to foreign concepts like self-control and delayed gratification, but I’ve surprised myself. It was an impulsive decision inspired by a visit with some old friends in Scottsdale two weekends ago.  In the air between their home and mine I decided to start as soon as I got home. If I thought about it for too long I might have bailed, so I leaped.

Amy was one of my first friends in Missoula, and will remain one of my best lifelong friends. Even though I hadn’t seen her in almost eight years we didn’t miss a beat. Amy’s husband Kevin is also an old friend, and I was honored to read at their beautiful beachside wedding in October 2004, the last time I saw them. It’s a tragedy that so much time passed, but the tragedy is no more; that gap of time will never be so great again. This is how young we were in 2004:

{Me and Amy at her wedding}

Amy and I visited Kevin at his winter gallery/workspace and I was blown away (bad pun, he’s a glass blower) by how amazing his work is and how far he’s come as an artist. Here’s a link to his website which hasn’t been updated with photos of his latest and greatest—think abacus and totem inspired sculptures in vibrant colors—but if you’re interested in seeing more drop him a line.

http://www.powersglass.com/

Amy and I ate some out-of-this-world meals. Most were very healthy, one was decidedly not.  We visited Cave Creek, a sweet little Western town, where we relived our old Missoula days doing shots of cilantro and parsley. These are not new Stoli flavors, people. This was the real deal.

We played with her gorgeous girls (no pictures, sigh) and went on a fantastic hike. The visit was short but oh so sweet. Visiting old friends can be multi-faceted, reminding you of who you’ve been and where you’re headed. The effect can be an odd blend of bittersweet and inspirational.

Over the course of the past eight days I’ve learned a lot about myself, but the greatest lesson I’m taking away from the fast is that it’s my right and responsibility to take care of my body. I don’t know about you, but i treat my body like shit sometimes. I hope those days are over. Amy has been available for texting and telephone consultations and pep talks the whole time, and on day five she gave me the word I was looking for but couldn’t find: protective.

I feel intensely protective of myself both physically and emotionally. I am the only one who can determine how I feed myself, who I surround myself with, and what emotions are truly mine. Sacred and temple are words that also come to mind, but that seems like a little much. Or a lot much. But why? I think it’s worth exploring why disrespecting our bodies and treating them like junkyards can be excusable, but to say they are sacred temples just seems over the top. Am I (are we?) really that out of whack with our priorities?

As years of toxins release the opportunity presents to sift through what is left. It’s still happening and I look forward to my last two days and what will continue to unfold, but right now I can tell you what is not left: self doubt, lack of focus, and wavering perseverance.

Good riddance.

Instead of wishing I was on day ten, I’m going to savor these last few days. I realize I could continue beyond ten—I read about a woman who went for forty—but I don’t want to use the cleanse as a crutch. My energy and clarity are astounding me, and I feel absurdly peaceful. The real test will be finding out if I’m capable of retaining those qualities once I resume “normal life.”

I’ll keep you posted. Wish me luck. Let me know if you have any idea what normal life is or where I might pick one up.

{me and Amy coming down from Pinnacle Peak}