This is an image very familiar to a Libra girl. Note the balance.
Last time I weighed myself I experienced a negative reaction to the inconsistency of the numbers over a period of several weeks. It appeared as though I was eating and then starving, then eating again. So, I figured I'd give it a rest, that obsession with some magic number - the number that would proclaim that I had reached my weight loss goal.
But weight loss wasn't really my first aim when I began the juice fast. A number of health conditions that were mostly just annoying, rather than debilitating, were in need, finally, of extradition from my body. No one but I could really witness these conditions, and no one but I could eradicate them. There would be some work. There could even be some tears. And, there have been moments when tears might have come, but didn't, and it has been work certainly.
If I wanted to challenge myself, at my most basic instinctual level, I couldn't have chosen a more suitable task for it, than embarking on a 92 day juice fast. Moments of "what was I thinking" came often in the early stages, and then morphed into, "what am I feeling at this moment?"
Around Day 30, I struggled so much with the desire for food I could sink my teeth into, that I recognized the struggle as "wrestling with the angel" for strength. What was true about this challenge? Did I really need to prove something to myself? To others? Was I just trying to lose some weight? Did I really want to be healthier so badly? Did I really think I could hold out? These questions, though seemingly simple to answer, were actually reaching deeply into my psyche.
So, when I weighed myself and saw yet another rise of the numbers, and the ensuing discouraging feelings that came with it, I had to make a decision. I wasn't enjoying the process anymore. I wasn't writing about it any more. I needed to eat.
I modified the fast. I added a small meal. I drank more water. I did more research. What I discovered was that I could eat that small meal and still maintain some weight loss, IF I met the condition of drinking at least two glasses of fresh veggie and/or fruit juice daily, preferably the green juice first thing in the morning. Then, I felt villified. I could EAT!! Yes! I got excited again. I laughed at my scale and with my foot, pushed it to the back of the closet where it stays until the end of the fast.
Then something really exciting happened. I began to get comments on how slim I was looking. Even after my initial 10 lb. loss after two weeks. I also started seeing my clothes get looser, and looser. I even had to relegate a few of my favorite summer pants to a give-away pile. One pair of pants were almost brand new, and I regrettably, but happily still, parted ways with them. I chose to use this little act as a symbolic nod to change - in my body, in my attachment to my clothes, and to my ease in moving forward. It felt like progress, at a deeper level.
Then came some comments on how good my skin looks. Comments that came out of nowhere, unexpected, even questioned - by me, of course.
I'm beginning to see some balance in the scales after all.
I still have 43 days to go. I know now, I'll continue with the diet, slightly modified. I also know I'll not rely on the scale to indicate the change in me. I've traded my tumultuous relationship with my scale for my newfound friendship with change, which is much more gentle and real.
"Mass is a measurement of the amount of matter something contains, while Weight is the measurement of the pull of gravity on an object."
Simple.
More to come.
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