Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again

in a new way
on the earth!
That's what it said
as it dropped,

smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches

and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing

under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment

my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars

and the soft rain -
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

-Mary Oliver, from What Do We Know

So, question: What has the rain been saying to me (and it rained for two days here, so the poem and theme is justified)?

Answer: My body likes juiciness, it likes rawness much better than cooked-ness.

What has been so interesting is the anger. By Day 4 of juice, my emotional detox had begun... and it continues. For those who don't know, I am one of those few who actually has a thyroid condition. I have blogged about this before ... and so, no matter what I have done for the past year, my weight doesn't really budge much. The juice makes me feel lighter and more flexible but weight is slow to move. And it's very frustrating. Here's why: I eat better than anyone I know. And there is a fury in me that wants to be normal, to eat whatever I want (cooked or not, meat being entirely excluded on all accounts) and be happy and healthy. But my body, which has always been sensitive and spiritually inclined is pushingpushingpushing to raw and the energy of Mother that I am so good at pushing out. And the raw thing, I know is good, I know that raw is good for me, and even Gabriel Cousens' book Conscious Eating, says that being a Kapha/Vata person (which I am and he is himself, actually), do best on 80% raw. And when I read that, I KNOW it's true and correct, but...

it doesn't mean that the addictive emotional turmoil of past food foibles surrenders easily or even willingly. It's hard. And the anger and hurt I am feeling, I KNOW is emotional because all I want to do is just stuff my face like I have in the past to quell emotional pinches that I would rather numb out, than deal with. Well, now I am having to deal with it. It's hard, but I also know that it's good. It's just hard.

As soon as I have some cash, I am booking it to the Tree of Life and get my RAW on.
*sigh.

Here's to dreaming of Patagonia.