Workspace by the fire, these days.
Most of the woman I work with in the adventure that is fasting, fast for 10 days. A perfect handful of days to detox the system out, and gain some clarity on what we want for our body, mind and spirit. And I provide suggested guidelines that I have learned through trial and error in my own fasting history. No premade drinks. 80-100 ounces of water daily, no buts. Broths, herbal teas, and homemade fruit/veggie smoothies are ok. Go to bed early. And breaking your fast on chinese kung pow chicken is going to add a new understanding to the word burning.
But now that I’m hitting day twelve, I’ve been getting emails and facebook msgs asking me if the rules are different for extended fasts.
Heck yes, they are.
Rule Number One.
Dance.
Dance a lot.
And dance naked.
Preferably in the shower with the music cranked up. Some things can only be
danced out. And if you feel silly dancing, dance that crap out. Shake. Spin.
Move your hips. Be the sexy queen of your domain that you are. And if you slip
in the shower and knock the shampoo bottles all down. Relax. The cat who
witnessed it go down thinks it is your glorious finish, and is amazed at what a
rockstar you really are.
Rule Number Two.
you have to be proficient in praying in profanities. If you aren’t going to dig
up that crap and lay it out there within sacred space, what are you even doing
in the first place? I like to think God knows exactly where I am at, and is all
for supporting me while I process it out with all the anger and joy I can
muster. So process it out. Don’t hold back. Sometime this afternoon I lit a
bundle of sage and settle down with a cup of rose tea while the smoke danced
about. I chewed on my lips for a few moments while I reflected on the expanded
space God was willing to fill for me when my cup was empty. And then. In true
Laura Em style, I wrote in this sacred space. I’m pretty sure my journal entry
today was the most beautiful and poetic slurs of f’this and ‘f’that all across
the page…..well, pages. Holiness isn’t always pretty, but it is always honest
and true.
Rule Number Three.
Don’t wear mascara. Tears and snot are your new meals. Sweat is your comfort.
Day twelve is hitting me full force.
not being without food. Although…key lime pie & I have a firm date in place
for Oct. 20th.
it is hitting me that I am completely and utterly alone. The sense of community
during the 10 Day Fast sessions have spoiled me, and now I’m back into a
practice that met me in solidarity in the first place.
I was on the phone with Tyler when he said he was going out to dinner with the
other management trainees in Texas. We lost cell phone connection in the
conversation, and it only took seconds for rule number three to come into
place. Tears and snot. Sobs that came with Autumn, I suppose. I felt
overwhelmed at the isolation. The size of this house. The deafening silence. A
fridge that is unable to provide any comfort. And a group of souls that get to
spend the evening over a hot meal with the freaking love of my life while I sit
in an empty room.
Day twelve finds me lonely and cold. The only people I’ve seen this week has
been the cable guy & Safeway delivery man (“Did you order enough water?” No,
sir, not even close). The rain has come, ushering in a typical Pacific
Northwest autumn. And here, on this Puget Sound island that I find myself on,
the rain means a blanket of mist cutting through the land. Gone are the Olympic
mountains. Gone is the sea.
I walked down the street, ignoring the way the mist frizzed my hair and hung on my lashes. If my mountains were gone, I was at least hoping to see another person, but everyone is wrapped up inside. I can picture them gathering around the table, passing the bowl of salad, breaking the French bread, and plating the main entrée over shared stories of their day. I might be delusional, but I swear it smelled like meatloaf. I gave up after a few blocks, cold and unsure what I was looking for, and returned back towards the house.
the only comfort I can give myself isn’t
comforting at all.
“Eat the cold, Laura Emily.”
You’ve got work to do, babe. And solidarity is what you need.
Expanded space and time is what I prayed for.
and here I am.
unsure what to do with my hands.
what is this work I have to do, again?
I guess I will dance that one out too.
oh autumn. You are here.
lets fill you with crisp mornings and lush velvet colors, drenched with cloves.
tending the fire, is where you can find me.
