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The Raw Honeymoon

Sarmamelngailis_2And all the crazy things it makes us do...

The Raw Honeymoon:
the period right after we’ve “discovered” being raw, and all the exciting things that come with it, while we are so enamored with the raw gurus and all the raw-related weird activities that are supposed to scrub us clean from the inside out.   I assume some people know what I am talking about.  Or… is it just me?

Anyway.  Here’s what happens, (and I can spot anyone in the raw honeymoon period, because I went through it myself):  raw food… the concept, the way it makes you feel, the outright logic and glory of it all… it’s the newness factor.  We are getting to know our new spouse, with whom we intend to live out the rest of our healthy, happy lives.  It’s so thrilling… so new.  We want to share it with everyone, in the very same way that when you fall in love, you want to run to the top of the empire state building and shout it out to everyone.  You want to run and do cartwheels in the street, and hug random people and tell them how beautiful life is.  REALLY, this is what very often happens with the love of raw food, and the new-found energy that comes with it. 

Here’s what else happens… we worship the gurus of raw food. Not too unlike getting into a cult… we become believers and wide-eyed receptacle sponges of the raw wisdom being dispensed by the gurus we are worshiping.   I still worship a few of them, though it’s all been tempered since with a healthy dose of rationality.  Who am I talking about?  David Wolfe… whose seminars, back in the day, I would leave poorer by $500, but with a bag of powders, pills, goji berries, and also a hearty injection of confidence and enthusiasm that is priceless… which goes a long way.  Who else?  David Jubb… LOVE him.  Love him and the sweet vanilla flavored milk from brazil nuts that I first had from his store on 12th street which got me hooked.  Drinking brazil nut milk, tasting raw crackers, buying big tubs of the best tropical smelling coconut butter… all the while gazing at alarmingly vivid photos of “passed” gall stones on the wall.  Then being told that our own gall bladders are surely full of similar alien little greenish blobs and we really must do the thirty-day “gallstone flush”.  Of course, I tried it.  More on that another day.

It’s coming up on three years since I first “went raw”, as I did, in an overnight-with-no-transition sort of way.  In the excitement of it all, I was very open to the ‘cleansing’ practices I kept reading about, yet too enthusiastically impatient to do my own research on or at all contemplate some of the much touted procedures and practices.  Instead, being the good sport that I am, I just went ahead and did things.  For example, plain old colonics not being interesting enough, at the recommendation of the colon therapist, I agreed to let her give me a fresh wheatgrass juice “implant”.  I didn’t bother to take the time to understand what wheatgrass up your butt is supposed to do for you.  But I figured, why NOT?  In the end, I didn’t really notice anything different, except that for the rest of the week I walked around half expecting little dandelions to start sprouting from my ass.

Yes, what a good sport I am.  Here’s another example:  a certain well-known, very good looking, very lovely and quite brilliant guru amongst us has certain very unique talents.  One is that he is known to be able to “read” people… like a book that tells you what is right or wrong on the inside.  Being very intrigued myself, I felt honored that he did this for me, and after he gazed into my eyes, checked out my tongue, poked and prodded a bit, he diagnosed me with a “situation”.  He kept his hand on my abdomen.  His explanation sounded very compelling, though I had no idea what he was talking about, except that it was a female oriented issue.  To fix this “situation” of mine, on which I could not get him to clearly elaborate, he gave me progesterone to take, as well as a few of these home made herbal little balls wrapped in saran wrap he pulled from the freezer.  And I’m supposed to shove these icy little concoctions up my you-know-what.  I was so transfixed by him, that I bought the stuff and did it, thinking that whatever my "situation" was, I'd be healed...

Then a couple days later I had a SERIOUS itching problem... I hobbled over to his store, trying my best to ignore the inferno down below.  After explaining what was happening to me, the girl behind the counter was like, "OH MY GOD!!  You mean he FORGOT to tell you that you're supposed to douche it out afterwards??"  So I'd been walking around all this time with these gnarly herbs leaking out of me, making me itch like a madwoman.  Lovely, right??

There you go… can you get more “real” than that?  Rest assured, I’ve settled comfortably into this marriage with raw foods.  Honeymoon over.  I’m still all about fresh fruits and vegetables, but I now only put them in my mouth.  And I still feel better than ever in this happy union that feels so right.  And I still think life is beautiful.


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