Kraft peanut butter and Chapman’s vanilla with chocolate chunks and caramel frozen yogurt. Perfect combo for a Friday night dinner.
After a week of eating clean, my suburb’s origins fire back and I need to get a fix of crappy food loaded with refined sugar and hydrogenated fats.
This usually coincides with a visit to my sister who embraces the South Shore lifestyle. I can always count on her to have a fridge packed with food that instantly bring me back to my sweet childhood (hello, Activia blueberry yogourt containing “probiotics”, I’m talking to you). Did I mention her pantry is equally filled with surprising mixtures (Reese spread, anyone?)?
Because my sister was busy this weekend, I had to pretend I’m a grown up and get it some other way.
Yuck. The sacred temple my fridge has become over the years, which only pure foods, mostly organic plants, have access to, has been violated.
I’ve let the enemy get inside the house.
Yes. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Gwyneth, and all my Goop friends. I went to a regular supermarket instead of the hipster store, and committed the unforgivable act: bought the smooth and delish bear-friendly PB and its perfect complement, the very healthy frozen “yogurt” (it’s a proven, trusted combination I had already tested on a previous trip to my sister’s).
It seems innocent. No big deal right? Except you don’t know me, and my love for the sweet-salty spread and cold, sugary, creamy desserts.
I am well-behaved throughout the day, but watch out at night. Between 10pm and 10:30pm, you’ll usually find me head in the jar or gallon, often both at the same time, loading up to get through the night under the dim light of the oven. I’ll also wake up a few hours later (yes, between midnight and 2am), to get a few more spoons in.
Well, that was before. As I’ve stopped buying the thing (my liver is thanking me right now).
What can I say? I had it on my mind, and once the seed was planted, I couldn’t think of anything else.
They say pray for the best, prepare for the worst. I did not. So by now you probably get the picture of my late-night snack, and its collateral damage.
I was ready for it, except nothing happened. I got the tempting products in my house, and nothing. NOTHING. I just got one *tiny* bowl of frozen yogurt for dessert and DIDN’T EVEN OPEN THE PB JAR. As we are talking, it’s still perfectly tight with his tinfoil alike cover untouched.
It has nothing to do with personal will. I am not resisting the temptation of the bears screaming my name. Which makes me believe I’ve done a few things right this year.
It was a hell of a hectic one, thanks to all those retrogrades AND my Saturn return (as if I needed more action), but I’m getting through stronger, calmer and happier.
How come? I’m getting perspective. I’ve never been more in the thick of it, pursuing my dream career, developing beautiful relationships, yet I’m not so involved anymore. I feel anchored. I can see the big picture.
Let me tell you. What I see is beautiful. It’s pure magic. The big picture now includes for me those dimensions we don’t talk about, the energies, the guides, the God. When you see how minuscule you are in this humongous Universe, believe me, you get perspective.
Though it doesn’t mean this life is not important, because it is, and I can do much more than I ever thought possible by removing the barriers that were limiting me from fully experiencing what this existence has to offer.
Shedding the layers, letting go of the memories no longer serving me, the preconceived notions of who I am and what I – my ego – was holding on to.
I’m becoming more by release the need to prove I deserve to be.
Less suffering, more capacity. Less anxious banter, more action.
A strong heart, a neutral mind.
A strong heart and a neutral mind that allow me to sit on my couch on a Saturday night, with Chapman’s vanilla with chocolate chunks and caramel frozen yogurt in my freezer and Kraft peanut butter in my pantry, without even craving their sweet comfort before going to bed.
Now that’s pure power my friends.