Choosing Housemates and Guests

Fresh fruit in Alaskan winter feels like a decadent blessing--notice the date on the plate, which seems more reasonable; notice the snake on the plate.

There's turmeric brought back from England, too, like the last time I went. Last time I brought turmeric back it was the harbinger of hard times for me physically, and the same again now, or worse. So many scientific studies are bogus because they claim, for example, that cholesterol causes heart disease, confounding correlation "a happens when b happens" with causation "in the presence of/because of b, you get a." Today's lesson. Returning from England with turmeric and having my weight/food relationship in free fall have happened together twice now, but that does not mean the one causes the other. There is a much bigger picture to be taken into account. Lots of other fruit on the plate--and the snake.

This has been such a rich week in terms of Internet-based offerings in the setting intentions/personal development arena. I could have listened to great audios all day every day. And there's still more to come! We've had intention setting, nutrition, manifestation, sacred journaling, yoga... Next week, there's The Future of Nutrition Conference, with five days of talks--the first four days twelve talks on the hour EST (I guess I'll be waking up early), the fifth day "only" eight. I'm always relieved that they offer 24-hour replays in case anything's actually going on, you know, in my "real" lift. I'm looking forward to this one because there's a dizzying array of nutrition experts, from low-fat vegan promoters to paleo dieters, from raw vegans to low carbers. I love the opportunity to listen to such a spectrum of views in short order; it enables me to note commonalities, spot fallacies, notice what I'm attracted to.
I've been taking notes on the other summits/webinars, and  I'll share some in my next post.

I'm grateful to have had those guests into my temporary home. They're ephemeral visitors, my sojourn here is temporary, and yet listening to them has offered me some modes for creating stability.

Another guest I had in this house was less welcome: a mouse. Having lived in the jungle with rats and centipedes and biting ants in the bed, you'd think mice would be no big deal to me. But man, I was so upset! Last summer I had a serious mouse problem in the small-dark-room living situation I had then. They got into my stored food--I'd inadvertently left some nuts and other mouse-attractants in plastic bags instead of glass jars. But the little buggers ate into my bag of cinnamon, my nori sheets, my spirulina, and other things I'd never have guessed a mouse would eat! Between the damp/dark/smell/irritation, I guess I grew some antipathy back then. 

There was only one mouse, and I chose to expel it from this space; I didn't want it as a room mate. But ever since it was here, I've been seeing mice everywhere! Moving shadows, my hair in my peripheral vision, passing hallucinations...all mice!
My wise mom told me once, "If you have unwanted guests, don't entertain them, and they will leave." There's nothing lying around for a mouse to eat here. Not even the phantom mice.

Here are the housemates I did choose. I mentioned sprouts before. I now have some little clover greens, one or two milk thistles, sunflower sprouts. They struggle in the yellowish light here, reaching eagerly and leggily toward it. I love how the sunflower sprouts loop up, still with that black seed cap on their dicot leaves, hands clasped in prayer.

I was sat on a chair beside this table, writing, and heard the sort of soft-fall noise that usually startles me and is sometimes hallucinatory. It was the sound of one of those sunflower husks dropping from a sprout, the liberated leaves opening out. Hello, hallowed.

Well, This is Embarrassing...How did we get here? (Fifty First Weeks)

Fifty First Weeks: this week my "fresh start" will be a move toward more transparency. Since I seem to be crashing and burning for all to see, I might as well own it and quit soft-pedaling, in hopes that my sharing from within the situation might be of help to others. This is uncharted ground, so I'm learning every step. Perhaps I'll still manage to pull a phoenix out of the ashes.

Blossoming currants. The birds always get any fruit.

I'm as thirsty as ashes

I hadn't thought anything of it until a conversation on Friday brought home to me how narrow my food choices have become in contrast (see below), but I'm drinking enough to float the Ark!

I waken parched.
First thing every morning, I drink a pint of warm lemon water with some powdered supplements in it (MSM, lysine, magnesium). Then, after working out, I make Phil's coffee, and I make myself a quart of one kind of herbal tea and a two-quart thermos of another kind. The quart jar gets topped up several times over the course of the morning. I've probably drunk a gallon by lunchtime, and continue through into the evening. I seldom have to wake up to pee at night.

Now, it's true that this has all been my pattern for many months, but I think the quart jar gets topped up more often these days, more extra tea gets brewed in the afternoons, more stevia sodas get drunk... Whenever I hike, I have problems with thirst. Never hunger.

Kudos to me, though: for the past eight days, none of this liquid has been caffeinated and I haven't taken any caffeine pills either! Small victories!

I can't eat that...but I know all about it

Over with friends on Friday, I was asked "Do you eat quinoa?"--they'd fixed it with me in mind. I thought for a moment and responded honestly, "I do eat quinoa in theory, but I only eat it at your house (or anyone else who made it with me in mind)." "It is plant in nature," said my friend--i.e. a good candidate for Ela-food, and mentioned he'd been eating more of it lately to soothe some stomach issues. Off I went, enumerating the nutritional virtues of quinoa, why it's so good for you--for him...I caught myself spouting nutritional information about different foods a couple times that evening.

Perhaps because my friend was so sweet about it, I was forcibly struck by the truth of the fact that theoretically I can eat quinoa, that I know it has nutritional benefits, but I won't eat more than a tablespoon of it at a friend's house, and will usually avoid even that. Yes, this is partly because I don't know what else got put in there, and partly because I don't like to eat heavy in the evenings, but it's mostly, as I admitted in the conversation, "too calorie dense." Same story for beans, sweet potatoes, other starches. I won't eat nuts except a little coconut or seeds except chia/hemp/flax and I can't remember when I last ate flax or hemp other than in protein powder. With the possible exception of sweet potatoes and chia/hemp/flax/coconut, these are all things I definitely feel better off without. But who am I going to be able to convince of that, when I can't eat gluten/dairy/soy/animal product to begin with?

A few months back, I was eating quinoa for breakfast--this is an old blog pic!

OK, it was less than a quarter cup of quinoa buried in turmeric-water and fruit, and OK, if I had even a teaspoon too much of that breakfast, I would spend the whole morning trying to keep it down, even after I nixed the banana, which was making me sick. So, true, I wouldn't dream of going back to quinoa for breakfast. I'm so happy not to be spending my mornings nauseous, as I did when this was breakfast, when chia pudding was breakfast (even made with one tablespoon of chia seeds), when carrot slaw with my favorite protein powder (which unfortunately makes me sick in more than minuscule quantities) was breakfast, when...you get the picture.

Nowadays, this is a more typical breakfast.

It's a few wild blackcurrants with spirulina and a whole teaspoon of molasses, with some stevia, and some psyllium to thicken the whole thing up. Maybe some fruit or dried fruit on the side. I'm using my nutritional knowledge, see, and trying to make sure I get some iron in. I don't want another iron shot after the one ten days ago--my butt hurt for almost a week! Spirulina and molasses are both great iron sources, and dark berries probably have some too. I'm pounding the nettle tea and eating nettles--sometimes the breakfast pictured above has had nettles in place of the currants.

I say this is great, I adore not being nauseous all morning. But realistically, if I go to any treatment center, they're not going to let me have that kind of breakfast! They're going to want me to have something more like the first breakfast, at least. Makes me nauseous just to contemplate. How will I manage with crappy institutional food and none of my normal superfoods--spirulina and chlorella--and supplements that keep me functioning so well?

It's a brutal paradox--I know so much about the nutritional properties of so many foods, but apparently am unable to feed myself sufficient quantities to stay out of trouble. Obviously, it's a matter of degree. Ordinarily, I do great on way less than anyone else around me. But maybe way, way, way less is too much "less"! Since the idea of going away to a treatment center is both so horrifying to me and apparently almost impossibly complicated to arrange, it troubles me that I'm apparently unable to work back up even to avoid the horror. I couldn't even explain why I can't. Hoping to find a way out. Hoping something will give before I have to deal with it that way.

Phil and I sat down this morning and brainstormed a little about how I ended up in this situation. Not surprisingly, the overwork of the past several months was a major culprit, but of course there are others. A long manic episode, the left-field caffeine addiction, some self esteem issues maybe...My mum immediately asked whether it had anything to do with the trip to Israel last November. One of my old great aunts, who hadn't seen me since I was 70 or 80lbs, greeted me delightedly with "You're fat!" Naturally, I was extremely upset... But I don't think that's the 'cause' of this situation, although I can't deny that it's crossed my mind, in Hebrew, to tell my great aunt I'm not fat anymore.

Let me know if this is too much information and you want me to return to my usual, more guarded sharing. I'll listen to any feedback I receive.
Thank you to everyone for all your friendship. My deepest thanks to those who are giving Phil support. This situation is hard on him: he's so used to being so good at helping people, and he feels helpless and frustrated.

The Bitter and the Sweet (Fifty First Weeks)

The whole "Fifty First Weeks" idea was aimed at the potential to start over, channel amnesia, discard mistakes, make fresh starts. At the moment, the "fresh start" idea is beleaguered. Every day that I act a certain way, I'm scoring an ever-deeper groove in the mire, and the soil I displace pushes up on either side of that groove, creating walls that block any deviation.


Term's over, pressure's off, but things are not easy here. There has been some sweetness too, though, so let me start with that before I get to the bitter part.

The Sweet

Mother's Day brunch yesterday, and Leslie has chicks!

Lots of chicks. And they are adorable. Not tiny now,  and their personalities are starting to come out. Chickens are so much fun...It made me nostalgic for Hawaii.


Getting right into the spirit, both Leslie and Roxy have chicken outfits--super sweet (and silly)! 

And as for a sweet taste on the tongue, here's something I brought to the brunch.

These are black abada dates and barhi dates, each stuffed with a very quick raw vegan sugar free marzipan filling! 
Medjools are the only dates in the stores up here (except for the occasional pitted deglets, which are steamed, so I don't buy them--a shame, as I love deglets). I've mentioned before that I don't care for medjools--they're the modern-day-agricultural version of dates, super big, super sweet, less minerals, more sugar. So, when I saw that Shields Date Garden was having a sale on some of my favorite varieties of heritage dates, I went overboard and ordered up fifteen pounds of each! That should last a couple years...


Barhis were everyone's favorite in the raw food community in CA when I lived there, and were very hard to get because they always sold out so fast. What a treat to have an abundance of them. Abadas--I love how they're black and shiny--anything that color must be high in minerals. Abada is the name of a branch of my family, so I feel even more connected with them.


And how did I make that marzipan stuffing, you ask? Easy--
2 tablespoons raw almond butter, softened
1 tablespoon raw coconut butter, softened
1/2 tablespoon almond extract
1 tablespoon powdered xylitol


Stir all together and stuff into pitted dates!


Given my excitement to share these wonderful less-usual varieties of date, it took the wind out of my sails a bit when pretty much everyone at the party said they preferred medjools. I wish my moral judgment against medjools as agriculturally processed/demineralized/oversized/oversugared didn't interfere with my reception of other people's taste preferences--I try not to let it do so. Mostly, I was disappointed that everyone else wasn't as excited as I was about the other varieties of date! But medjools are the prototypical, generic date for most Americans, so I shouldn't have been surprised at the reaction of "Dates? Medjools!"


Whoa there, a little bitterness creeping into the sweet section!
I guess I'll call it a transition...

The Bitter

My Facebook status update on Friday:

Ela Harrison Gordon

Friday

Teaching-done. MFA coursework-done. RWW thesis editing-done. And now three different experts and my bloodwork say time to cash in. No way! Not NOW!!

Perhaps that sounds playful, as several people "liked" my status. But things are not easy here. The huge pressure of work of the last months has lifted, but I have a mountain to climb. I went into my naturopath appointment on Friday angry at all the drama and scaremongering people were doing about my health status. 

My naturopath, whom I love and trust, and was expecting to back me up that there was no need for the drama, had my bloodwork in his hand, and told me he was sorry, but he agreed with everyone else.

I feel like the elephant in the room.

So, now what? 

Remember my turmeric root I posted about?

Here's what it looks like today.

Since I've even written a poem comparing my shriveling to that of the turmeric root, this is poignant indeed. And sadly predictable.


I'm on my third day off caffeine, though, trucking through the headache and the unmasked fatigue. That's a good thing. 
We're "exploring options," but I'm facing having to miss out on a lot of things I'd rather be here for--in order that I may be here long term, they say. I still don't think the situation is that serious. They say that's part of why it is serious. Bitter, bitter.

Drowning in Gray; Rainbow Salad

Last night, it snowed heavy, white-out, huge, fat, fist-sized flakes. We sat inside the snow-shaker with the outside light on, watching the show.

 Later on, it warmed up above freezing for the first time in a month, and rained.

Not enough to wash away all the snow, but enough to keep the skies gray. Enough that when you sit in the outhouse, there's a drip of gelid water that lands right on your knee. And drips again.

I'm struggling with the gray since returning from Israel. Yes, the rain washed the snow-cover from the spruce trees, and they're my favorite green; yes, there are still some mountain ash berries on the trees, scarlet red. But mostly, there's gray, there's blanketing white. I feel like I'm in a dream where my limbs are numbed to robotic, leaden treads and when I take a step, it sends me in a slow-motion spiral so that where I thought was was going is on the other side of the floor. An end of everything seems so attractive right now--just turn out the lights and be finished in one last gush of red.

But I'm not supposed to think that way! I go through the motions.
For Phil's birthday, I even made a rainbow salad, so that all the colors could be in a bowl, if not before my eyes.

 Of course, the light makes any kind of colorful photography kind of grayed over...
Salad was:
Pomegranate seeds (red--persephone in the underworld)
shredded carrot (orange)
The dressing (see below) (yellow)
lemon zest (yellow)
shredded ginger (yellow)
spinach (green)
purple cabbage (that blue-purple end of things)

Tahini-Mustard Dressing
juice of half a lemon
2 tablespoons tahini
1 tablespoon flax meal
1 tablespoon prepared mustard
1 tablespoon coconut sugar
1 teaspoon turmeric
2 teaspoons miso
1 teaspoon black pepper
water to thin as necessary

Blend all together, adding water as necessary. This mixes up really easily, would probably even be doable by hand, but even an underpowered blender can easily do it. (I used my hand-held blender, as you can see in the salad pic.)

Even in the pillows of gray, there can be light deliciousness...