Pace and I went raw on Sunday.
What does that even mean?
It means that we’ve stopped eating cooked and processed foods, and started eating lots of green things and multi-colored things that actually grow from the actual earth. Like sprouts. And carrots. And plants and leafy things and, um, ya know, other things like that. We’ll eat them plain, in smoothies and juices, in interesting mixes and blends, on a train and in the rain!
Wait. No more eating out? No more social eating?
We won’t eat out much anymore, which is actually a good thing given how much we spend in restaurants monthly. (We’ll probably still occasionally take our son out for pizza, though.) There are a couple of places in Austin that are raw-friendly, so we’ll go there when we need a night out, but in general, we won’t eat out.
As for social eating, that’s an interesting one for me. I’m really hung up on social graces and being proper and not rocking the boat… hold on. No, seriously. No I’m not! I rock the boat all the time! What was I thinking? Well, I don’t like to cause problems for people during special occasions, which is what I was thinking about.
For example, one of my dearest friends is getting married next week. I don’t want her to freak out about how to feed us at her long ceremony and after-party (commonly called a reception by those not currently brain-impaired). I also don’t want to explain to several hundred people why I’m eating food I brought with me, don’t want to deal with their reactions (lots of people feel threatened by bizarre diets and thus get angry, which I know from personal experience (keep reading)), don’t want to go several hours with nothing to eat when surrounded by food that I’m probably not over yet. Like cake. Oh gods.
And what do we do when we travel? It’s hard enough to feed us when we’re traveling vegans.
So yeah. I have fear and uncertainty and haven’t figured it all out yet. It’s like I’m human or something.
But in general, like on Game Nights, I can have snacks and little meals in portable containers and we can munch on our stuff while others munch on their stuff, and there’s no big deal. Social eating, for the win!
Seriously, why am I doing this?
Because I’m afraid.
Because when I looked at Angela’s site, I freaked out and got super-angry and incredulous and defensive – like she was threatening me just by existing. What is that about?
I’ll tell you.
I’ve been interested in going raw, or at least trying it, since I first heard about it on Steve Pavlina’s blog. I really like and admire Steve, (even if I currently only know him mostly through his blog), so it was good for me to read all this stuff from him. A trusted source, as it were. At first, it freaked me out. Then it tempted me. Then it annoyed me. Then it frustrated me. Then it boggled me. Then it pissed me right the fuck off, oh yes.
I read about Steve’s raw adventures for months, on and off. I had all those feelings, over and over. Then my darling friend Megan, who I love and respect close up and personal-like, started talking – excuse me, ranting and raving – about food and what we eat and how we eat it, and I started listening. Really listening.
And all those feelings I was feeling from Steve’s ginormous list of raw posts started surfacing again.
Is there a point to all this?
The point is, I’ve been afraid for far too long. For far too long, I let fear rule me. I made decisions in fear. I stayed stuck because I was too afraid to unstick myself. I waited for a hero, someone to save me, because I was too afraid to save myself.
Once I realized that I was the only one who would ever save me, I got to saving. I learned to identify fear and fear blocks. I started facing my fears and knocking them down.
I went from worrier to warrior.
So now, when I find fear, I pick at it. I comfort it. I ask what’s up. I figure out what I’m afraid of and what I want to do about it.
Fear no longer rules me.
I’m still afraid, don’t get me wrong. In fact, last night – barely 36 hours into our raw food run, I broke down and cried. I freaked out. My blender isn’t good enough to blend nuts into paste, and I’d spent over an hour making dinner already, and I couldn’t take it. I even wanted a cheeseburger, wtf? I got so bogged down in fear that I couldn’t breathe for a while.
Yeah, I still feel that, still get paralyzed by it, still get blocked by it.
But I’m not gonna let that stop me anymore.