My brain is spinning so full of ideas, thought wonders and imaginings today. I am on the CLEANSE again, no real food except chocolate dusty chewy things which work like a miracle to stop hunger, but nothing to abate the Oh I’d love a grilled cheese sandwich on such a cold gray day feeling.
In fact on my bike ride to 23 Street for a meeting to add more passages to the manual I was helping craft for really the best Pilates studio (Power Pilates) I couldn’t help feeling like a cartoon character who is portrayed as so hungry that he is lead everywhere by his nose as his is lured and tugged like a fish into a restaurant. I kept peddling, drank my cleansing drink and took a way-too-hard for today class and rode on to another meeting about travel writing. I am counting bike riding as walking today and the hell with it.
Here I sat while a colleague ate a perfectly pedestrian grilled chicken salad, however by the time she finished the croutons had taken on the sheen of gold and I was sure she had inhaled the Holy Grail right before me. But I am, as my mother used to say, Hell bent for Thunder to finish this nine-day program. I did stray last night, Oh gosh that sounds so Catholic or bad spouse. Hell I ate actual food: Hot food, spicy food, creamy food. And wine too. I wrote to my cleanse mentor, what a world we live in, where we buy a product and it comes with a mentor or coach to cheer us on. Well I wrote or confessed to her Last night I ate fish and drank wine and it was divine, and all mine and my husband, whose celebration it was, said the night was sublime.
Has all this poetry infected me in perhaps a too cute way or am I delirious from not eating whatever and whenever I want? Either way it was a funny email to see leap from my fingers bypassing my brain.
Today, riding home from Midtown Manhattan, still on the bike, brakes really uncomfortably wet by now, I was beginning to feel put upon by this idea of a cleanse and detach. I wanted to stop for, a hero, or pizza or my much fantasized grilled cheese, or a steak, salad and frites. Instead I rode south snaking to less traveled roads and off the Avenues. And as I wound through the industrial streets in North TriBeCa or Southern SOHO I was alone except for the trucks parked nose dug into the loading docks. And there I spied a man who had constructed a home over a heat grate, his worldly possessions surrounding him in shopping carts and he was bundled into a ratty comforter reading a hard cover book. I know most of you gentle readers know about my Bike Fund, but for those who don’t, it is my new year’s charity. When I ride my bike I endeavor to donate the money I save immediately to the homeless.
So I turned and he observed me keenly. It took me a while to peal off my damp gloves and dig out my wet dollar bills. What is this silly girl up to disturbing my reading? his gaze asked. I just walked over and handed him the bills saying I thought you might like a hot cup of coffee later. No great exchange and I mounted up rode south and he kept reading. I felt really shallow questioning my sincerity and dedication to Cleanse while other folks live outside in the rain and still find time to read.The world challenges me, it pushes me to ask what I can do to be more, give more, help more and regard myself less. I am a tiny cog.