Birth, Death, and Bare Feet

The water is cold where my feet sink into the moss in the low spots.  The acorns are sharp.  The rocks are warm, a baby is born, and they tell us the Bogeyman is dead and drifting to the bottom of the sea. 

After Lysander was born I stopped wearing shoes at home.  We moved here in the early Spring, and I began to step gingerly from the door to the clothesline in bare feet.  The end of Summer approached and I could imagine ages past when I could challenge the burning sand, the boiling tarmac, and the rough gravel by the bike rack at the beach.  Then suddenly I found myself in compression stockings and Crocs, pacing the hospital corridors, under strict orders not to go barefoot lest I contract an infection or bleed to death from a cut on my foot.  In the trough of the wave all you see is walls of water.

Yesterday I held a three day old baby girl, daughter of dear friends.  In their exhausted glow I could see the light of that simple truth that comes so clearly in those moments: the things that matter most are within our reach, and the greater our embrace of them, the simpler everything becomes.  As I washed dishes and wondered if I felt a loss with my newborn days behind me, I realized how fortunate I am that life has handed me an extra teaching in renewal. 

When I lay in that hospital bed and invited the cancer to share its gift without destroying the recipient, when I promised my body that this wasn't a war but a rebalancing, all that was extraneous fell away.  As I continue to unwrap this present for years to come, one lesson is already clear.  I can return to my moments of triumph and crisis to find the simple things and to see what holds me back and weighs me down.  Once again, I step gingerly from the door to the clothesline, welcoming the new terrain to fragile flesh. 

A life lived well is a cause for celebration, and at its end it is only our own loss that we regret.  I do not rejoice the rumor of the end of a life lived in darkness; this is a moment for mourning the wayward paths of human potential.  I seek within myself new and more powerful roads to light and peace, that there may be more of both in the world.   

Foraging

I'm obsessed with food.  Not in a wine-pairings (I am currently imbibing something that brags of "Best in Class" appellations in the 3.0L category; I guess they don't specify the cardboard box part) and finish-with-squid-ink way.  While I enjoy adventures in culinary creativity, these days I leave that to my sister over at http://athome-ann.blogspot.com/.  No, my obsession with food has more to do with whether I can trust it to contain the stuff my body needs without also delivering toxic chemicals.  This sounds pretty simple, but I don't think it is anymore.  Maybe it never was, but since Monsanto was founded in 1901 by a pharmaceutical industry veteran to make artificial sweeteners, big agriculture in the US and abroad has done some pretty creepy things to food and farming.

Eating locally produced food has nutritional, social, and economic benefits.  Also, it may come in handy in the event of the Apocalypse.  I am not a strict locavore, and certainly not a political one.  Nonetheless, given my priorities with respect to what I eat, local food is the best option.  This meal came mostly from Maine (eggs, milk, meat, veggies), or New England (cheese), my salt and pepper come from abroad (although I am very picky about those too: the salt is French Atlantic sea salt and the pepper is certified organic).

Food is more than just nutrition, but that is my primary objective.  Order a salad in a restaurant.  Then eat a salad made from greens you grew yourself.  Few people who care about how food tastes won't notice a difference.  What is that difference?  Even organic mixed greens from the store taste different.  Food loses vibrancy as soon as it is harvested, and it loses nutritional value.  (I would love to see a good study of the exact rate of nutrient depletion, if anyone has one.)

What you absorb through ingestion and environment is all your body has to run on; the same is true of the stuff you eat.  If your food is grown in depleted, chemically treated soil, it stands to reason that it will be nutritionally deficient and will carry those chemicals with it.  Given that sprouts and kefir grains do not grow well in water treated with fluoride and chlorine (most recipes specify the use of untreated water), it might be reasonable to assume that those compounds have a negative impact on healthy cell development.  When I buy my food from a farmer who has rinsed it in fertile fields and then brought it directly to market, I trust it to be nutritionally potent.

I find that local food is also a good way to make friends!  In the area we used to live in, most of the  people I knew that lived there were connected to the farms and coops where I obtained food.  So, when I first moved to this area I called a local organic farmer.  Where could I find fresh eggs, raw Jersey milk, grass-fed meats?  She's become one of my good friends.  Living where food is grown, it is abundant and accessible, and the entrepreneurial energy and work ethic that comes from running small farms and food processing businesses is always present.  Food creates community.  

Local food is also more secure.  The German population was crippled during World War II by the criminal starvation blockades of the Allied powers, as they had limited domestic food sources.  Stalin wiped out between seven and ten million Ukrainians with engineered famines (in that case, even local food was not safe from a tyrannical despot).  Food embargoes are powerful acts of war (as are all embargoes, but that is another conversation).  Rising fuel prices have a tremendous impact on food production, raising costs and prices.  Not only are many farms tractor dependent, but synthetic fertilizers are petroleum-derived.  Fuel costs are an obvious factor in transport, both of raw materials and finished farm goods.  Simply put, local food made with local inputs and organic fertilizers does not travel as far. When arable land becomes acres of bloat boxes, food has to go farther to get to the table.

Certainly, the freshest food is that you grow yourself, and some might criticize me for emphasizing purchasing locally grown food rather than gardening.  There are some things I like to grow at home; I try to identify what I do best with my resources and leave the rest to the professionals.  I have found that small farms benefit from an optimal combination of economies of scale and expertise which allow for a productive division of labor in the marketplace, such as I cannot create by myself at home.  (Of course, mega-farms have the best economies of scale, but chemically-intensive monocultures are sort of like nuclear power: shop now, pay later).  That's just me; there are lots of terrific home growers out there and I commend you. 

Now, for a recipe full of non-local ingredients:)  By request -

Raw, organic energy bars

1 C almonds (I buy Spanish raw almonds; most domestic almonds that are labeled "raw" are actually pasteurized)
1 C cashews
~3/4 Lbs pitted dates (~20)
1/2 C raw honey (I get mine from Honey Gardens Apiary in Vermont).
1/3 C organic, unsweetened coconut

In food processor, chop the nuts and then add the dates.  Continue to chop until it starts to form a ball; add additional ingredients and process again.  Roll out between waxed paper on cookie sheet and then freeze until firm.  Cut into bars and stack with wax paper; store in freezer.

My latest go-to recipe for any veg and grain combo I have on hand, although I like kamuts and green beans these days.  This is a repeat, but it bears repeating.  I double the dressing because I use it on everything.

From Oh She Glows   
Protein Power Goddess Bowl
 Ingredients:

• 2 cups uncooked brown rice (or however much you want to make)
• 1.5-2 cups uncooked lentils (you need 4 cups cooked lentils)
• 1/2 red onion
• 4 garlic cloves, peeled and diced
• 1 red/yellow/orange pepper, thinly sliced
• 1 tomato, chopped
• 1 cup Tahini lemon garlic dressing
• 8-10 sundried tomatoes, sliced (optional)
• 2 large handfuls of mixed greens (or spinach)
• 1/2 cup parsley, chopped
• Lemon wedges and olives, for garnish (optional)
• Kosher salt and pepper, to taste (I think I used about 1/4-1/2 tsp kosher salt in the sauté)
• 1/2 tbsp olive oil for sautéing

Directions: Cook lentils and rice according to package directions, rinse with cold water, strain, and set aside. (Soak them overnight in water with some apple cider vinegar to get maximum nutrition from them) In a large skillet, add in the oil and heat to low-medium temperature. Now add in the onion, garlic, red pepper, salt, pepper, and optional sundried tomatoes. Sauté for about 5 minutes over low-medium heat. Now add in the cooked, drained, and rinsed 4 cups of lentils and stir well. Cook for another few minutes. Add in 1 cup of tahini lemon garlic dressing and stir well. Cook until it starts to bubble and then remove from heat. Add in 2 large handfuls of greens and parsley and stir well again. Portion cooked brown rice into the bowl(s) and then scoop the sauté lentil mixture overtop of the rice. Garnish with olives and a lemon wedge if preferred. Makes about 6 large portions. Dressing: Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup tahini
• 1-2 garlic cloves
• 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
• 1/4 cup nutritional yeast
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tsp kosher salt
• Fresh ground black pepper, to taste

Directions: In a food processor, process all ingredients until smooth. Makes about 1.5 cups.

Listen: Radio Silence

Lightning in Pilanesberg National Park, South Africa

Perhaps if I lived on the great plains of the world, thunderstorms would cease to be a novelty.  I have to resist the urge to stand on a naked hilltop, arms outstretched, and answer the summons of the great roll of thunder, in rain so hard it hurts.  I count the seconds from the flash to the shuddering clap, closer and closer until they are nearly simultaneous and a splintering crack tolls the submission of some tall pine to the sky's fierce touch.  And then, with a slight disappointment, I count again as the seconds increase and the rain lightens to a steady, soaking shower.

On Wednesday I returned home from some errands to find that the storm had fried my modem and my routers, thus shutting down my internet and phone.  I called the phone company from the rotary phone at the old general store (which now serves as our friend Will's boat shop), and then, since my cell phone doesn't work down here either, settled in for a day without outside communication.  From Wednesday until Saturday we were mostly out of contact.  Having just blogged about my son's use of the internet, I then got to enjoy most of the week without it.

There are more than enough essays and opinion pieces on our relationship with information in the age of constant access; I doubt there is much I can add to the subject.  We had several beautiful days and spent most of them outdoors, Wallace exhausting himself in that exultant play that comes so easily to young children.  He missed his computer games but filled the time with different games, and I think he really enjoyed the change.  I, on the other hand, spent the first 24 hours faintly concerned that I might be missing something, wanting to check my email, looking for phone reception to listen for messages.

I always have a story to tell.  Ideas and information swirl around in my head and I get so excited that I forget my head isn't the only place in the world.  It all gets so loud that I forget to listen to anything else.  I am cloven in two trying to reconcile the intellectual adventures of my pre-child life with the physical adventures of the life I lead now.  The growth that occurs when I open myself to my weaknesses doesn't happen; I am "the busy man who is never wise".*

Lysander pulled me down to the water's edge and let the freezing waves wash over his legs.  In my arms his little body would heat up from the rush of cold and excitement.  Wallace drew huge faces in the sand and invented a detective game by making trails with sticks.  My children communicate so simply, and they forgive me for my failure to hear.  In not hearing, though, I lose.  Letting the world get small again reminds me how big it is, and how much more I need to listen.  Perhaps I can accept the summons of the lightning after all.

*There is a Chinese proverb that the Wise Man Is Never Busy, and the Busy Man Is Never Wise.

There is Time To Breathe

A few days ago a friend posted on Facebook that her closest friend had received a grave and startling diagnosis; heading into emergency surgery with an open-ended prognosis, would we hold her in our thoughts?  I remember that feeling, like losing my peripheral vision; the feeling of looking towards the westering sun.

In private, our mutual friend asked if I could get in touch with Lavender* and offer some words of encouragement.  Such a request is a powerful gift, but also a bit intimidating.  How can we comfort someone else, if we have not worn her shoes?  Or even if we have, what is the "right" thing to say in such a situation?  But no one travels these paths alone, and if the people around me hadn't taken the risk of saying the "wrong" thing, they might have said nothing at all, which would have been much, much more difficult.  So I tried my best.  I began by quoting someone who had offered me comfort and support.

"There is PLENTY OF TIME. Do not get caught up in the medical urgency paradigm. Nothing is different other than some lab test. ALWAYS insist on consulting a second opinion from another specialist outside of the practice.

Breathe, it will work out and you are safe. There are many alternatives and the one which you feel most comfortable about will come to your awareness.

Trust your body. There is a reason, a cause and a way to address this."

"Breathe.

Breathe in Peace.

Breathe out Resistance.

Sit mindfully and watch your thoughts. The calm will help more than anything. Don't judge your fears or your resistance or anger or desperation or feelings of betrayal by your body. Just BE with your thoughts. Observe them. Find a place of centered-ness, of feeling grounded. Go outside and sit on the Earth. Look at the leaves and the grass and hear the birds. Breathe in. Breath out.

Focus on the breath.

Do that as often as needed.

Pause and BE in this moment. You are amazing. You are alive. You are strong. You are present for your children. You are in this moment. Focus on your breath.

And take some Rescue Remedy. Put it in water and sip all day. You will be ok. You are a strong and powerful healer. Your body is amazing and wants the best for you. You are healthy and confused. But, you are healing by focusing on the breath.

Do this first. There is plenty of time. There are millions and millions of moments and breaths. Be present with your breath.

All is well. Find that center. Be grounded in the present moment. You are ok, Right Now. The rest is chatter, speculation and supposition about tomorrow.

We are here. You are not alone. You are safe in this moment. Be present in this moment."

And as I read those words again, I realized how true they are.

I am struck by how unexceptional, how ordinary, it is to carry these burdens.  My uncle has an aggressive form of melanoma.  My mom has spasmodic pain in her neck that can be immobilizing.  People close to me have lost pregnancies, dear friends, relatives.  I have contemporaries with lupus, fibromyalgia, rheumatic arthritis, chronic fatigue.  Birth complications, divorces, abandoned careers; the list waxes and wanes, but winds ever on.  What is extraordinary is not that so many deal with so much with such grace, but that we generally recognize the positive as the norm.  The challenges are just that.  We go through them and grow through them; what else can we do?

Whenever we know of someone who is facing illness or loss, we extend our charity and our sympathy, as neighbors.  Again and again, we are undaunted by the frequency of these occurrences.


This is very telling.  Our reserves are much deeper than we think until we test them.  There really IS time to breathe, and the odds really ARE in our favor.


*Not her real name.

Welcome the Rain

A promise kept, the sword-like leaves of new green emerge from the detritus of shredded snow.  The honoring of a sacred trust that an emotionless, flaming ball of gas 93 million miles away will still be there when our spot on our own emotionless ball of rock tilts its face upwards and shakes off the shackles of winter. 

"Don't you hate the rain, Mom?"  "I don't hate the weather, Wallace.  I think I'd be setting myself up for a lot of misery if I did."  We welcome the warming of the air, the sweet smell of damp soil, in the Spring.  But do we welcome the flat gray drizzle of late Autumn, though it is last replenishment of the aquifer until the snow melts, an assurance to the sleeping trees that they can keep their fists closed and toes curled for a few months of rest before the exuberant unfurling and the effort of growth?  When we lie prostrate under the swelter of July, are we paying obeisance to the bursting tomato, the voluptuous pepper to come?

The forces that bend us are as much a gift as those that buoy us.  People ask me how I'm feeling.  Since early February, I have to remind myself of why; the question genuinely catches me off guard.  How am I feeling?  Terrific!  As healthy as I have ever been, perhaps healthier on a baseline level.  If I have had the occasional cold, it was no worse than any other, nor any more an injustice.  Somewhere in my recent past there is this tremendous experience of growth, the opportunities from which are still just glimmers in my imagination, and yet so many folks seem still to express concern! 

I don't resent it (it's nice enough to have people tell you how great you look, even if they mean "..considering that you have had a life-threatening illness"); how could I fault someone their generosity, or their genuine emotion.  But in so many ways it was easier to be me than anyone else this fall.  When I first got sick and spread the news around, a friend called to say, "I can't wait to hear how this new adventure turns out for you!"  Now that is a powerful statement of confidence and comfort. 

This is not to recommend that one necessarily respond to news of serious illness with words of congratulation.  It is just that those that bear the burden of worry and doubt are reflecting their own needs as well in their concern.  I have talked with others who have experienced severe illness about the impulse to try to care for the people who are caring for you, to offer them information and reassurance.  I dreaded calling my parents to tell them of my illness because I was worried for them; I burst into tearful apologies on the phone.  I think this is a large part of why it is so important to let people give; it is for themselves as much as for the recipient that they must do it.  It is the gift that we who suffer the illness can give in response to the gift of the illness itself; strange gifts both, but powerful.

To hate the rain would be futile, but it would also be a terrible loss.  What greater promise is there than the rain?

Embracing the Screen: A Very Visual Child

My new favorite game is "What Does Wallace See?"  I cut out an assortment of miscellaneous shapes, and he wanders in and selects one or a few and makes a collage. 

A Ship in Rough Seas - He started with the wave and the hull of the ship

A Telephone Pole Next To A Road By A Lawn - Started with the blue and black rectilinear shapes, and the green curve

A Car - Started with the front wheel circle.  Self-Portrait - Started with the circle and the green shapes

The Whale - The original.  Started with the ovoid (what is that shape called?)

What interests me is how he filters what he sees; what are the salient details of an object?  The casement windows on our house have three panes; he always draws them that way.  His clouds are flat on the bottom, like giant cumulonimbus forms on an air mass.  He will draw a schematic of a timber frame, and the structural members are two-dimensional on a flat plane; they have heft.

Catapult

This is a child who spends HOURS, literally, in front of the computer screen.  If we are home, there is a ninety percent chance he is in the guest room on the computer.  If not, then he is eating or making art work.  I never imagined the screen would play such a large role in our house; we don't have a television and we rarely even watch movies.  I am amazed by how much he gets from it. 

Wallace's first word, or near to it, was book.  He would crawl over to me with a board book in hand and hit me with it, saying "book.  book."  We used to read all the time.  Naturally, I assumed he would be itching to learn to read.  Then he discovered the screen.  We looked up farm machinery on YouTube; he was hooked.  (I have seen a surprising number of promotional spots for high-tech combine harvesters).  I have watched as he has learned to manipulate the mouse, to select videos on Netflix, to enter letters into the address bar and select recent sites from the drop-down menu, to navigate online games.  He taught himself his letters so that he could find them on the keyboard and select his favorite shows and sites: Boowa and Kwala, NickJr, PBS Kids, Thomas the Train, Bob the Builder, Kipper the Dog.  He plays adventure games, art games, word games, music games.  He watches films with intense focus, standing on the bed, fists clenched, head stretched forward; a few days ago he actually hurt his nose bouncing himself off the bed headfirst during "The Lord of The Rings"!  There is nothing passive about his relationship with the screen; this is his passion.  He tells me stories about plot lines and jokes.  When I hear him laughing in his sleep I imagine he is in one of his shows; when he had delirious, fevered nightmares during a bout of the 'flu they were of computer games.

Does he do other things?  Absolutely.  He'll spend hours at friends' houses role-playing or adventuring, he paints and draws.  He still loves to read, but I get it now: he likes the pictures.  "The Hobbit," with its giant trolls and dragon and raging battles, was of little interest until I borrowed an illustrated edition from the library.

He is a director, with a complete and perfect vision of everything he does; my major challenge right now is helping him through the rage and frustration that occurs as he struggles to execute that vision (I am also working on developing my MacGuyver skills, since I am often asked to fashion working machinery from a pile of popsicle sticks and yarn).  His dreams are big, and they are beautiful; when he accomplishes his objective he is pleased and satisfied, but immediately on to the next phase.

Of course there are moments when it worries me, his screen time.  Child psychologists and behaviorists have done numerous studies on the impact of screens on the developing brain.  Some of them draw negative conclusions, some positive, but it does not really matter to me.  In attempting to eliminate the confounding factors, the uniqueness of the individual, studies cannot account for the inherent differences between human beings.  Indeed, they do the opposite.  The world is full of exceptions, and that is what makes life interesting.  Finish school=Experience More Professional Success and Remuneration.  Someone tell Bill Gates. 

But mostly, it doesn't matter to me who he would be if he weren't who he is.  Accepting and embracing his love of these activities, so different from my preferences, is just another way that I learn how to live from watching my children, and from living with them as partners.  I can't wait until he can program, and use sophisticated graphic design programs; based on what he can make out of construction paper, I anticipate some pretty cool results.  As Tom Waits said in his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction speech, "To my children, who have taught me everything I know.  Or maybe it's everything they know.  Anyway, they have taught me a lot."

When I watch Wallace interact with the screen, when I see the development that comes out of it, I see that he is on his own nourishing path.  As I seek the blazes on my own, I know many times they lead me through terrain that others would prefer I not travel.  If I look for you where you are, I can meet you.  Or I can wait in vain to find you where I think you ought to be. 

10 Simple Ideas for Modifying Your Diet

It's true that I eat raw liver.  For most people this is not a simple shift.  I never said I liked it, though!  It is very likely that, had I not developed a severe metabolic imbalance that threatened to kill me, I would not have adopted some of the more...unconventional... aspects of my diet.  Convincing anyone to eat raw liver is not my intention (but if you have been diagnosed with cancer, suffer from severe allergies or asthma, or have a blood disorder, I highly recommend looking into the work of Dr. Beard,  Dr. Kelley and Dr. Gonzalez.  Read this material and follow up on the research - the protocols are very different for different types of imbalances and the parasympathetic autonomic disorders, such as the blood cancers, need meat-heavy diets, whereas the sympathetic autonomic disorders respond more favorably to raw vegetable diets.)

"I'm not going to tell you to stop eating bread, because you love it," my homeopath told me.  This is a very important aspect of diet - food is a sensory and psychological experience, and if eating becomes about "giving up" the things you love and only eating foods you don't enjoy, then you begin to lose one of the great pleasures of life.  My diet is not pristine, and that is not a goal for me.  Modifying my eating so that I can develop a rapport with my body, and feel what my core health responds to, is my strategy.  There are times when I can absorb "junk" food comfortably, when I can eat sweets or drink alcohol and still feel well, and times when all I want is kale and kimchee!  And of course, there are times when I am feeling the latter but still go for the former; most of us occasionally choose to pay the price for an indulgence.  The key, for me, is recognizing when I am doing that.  If I woke up after a late night of drinking and socializing, and couldn't identify the reason that I felt off, that would concern me.

I prefer the "add, substitute, subtract" approach to diet modification.  I add things that are missing, I experiment with substitutes for things I enjoy in the moment that seem to have negative effects on my body, and I eventually subtract the stuff that makes me feel bad later, or makes my symptoms worse.  Here are four adds, three substitutes, and three subtracts, for a total of ten tricks to a healthier diet:

Add:

1. Nettle infusion. Nettles can be purchased at the health food store, or online (you can harvest stinging nettles yourself, of course, but I have had some painful experiences).  Nettles contain calcium, magnesium, potassium, silicon, boron, zinc, and vitamins A, D, E, and K.  I find that they taste a bit strong, so I add some raw honey (I order mine in bulk from Honey Gardens, which makes it very economical), and I drink it in the afternoon when I might otherwise go for a cup of tea.
2. Grated salad, or some sprouts.  It is easy and cheap to make your own sprouts, either from sprouting seeds purchased at the natural food store or from organic lentils.  Sprouts are a terrific source of vitamin C, as well as A and B-complex.  I make a grated salad in the food processor, with carrots, cabbage, daikon radish, and sometimes beets (or whatever else sounds good to you), add some dulse flakes for the iodine (you can buy sea salt with dulse in it, which is a natural iodized salt), and then I dress it with miso ginger dressing.  To make this dressing, combine 2T brown rice miso, 2T soy sauce, 1/4C olive oil or sesame oil, 2T rice vinegar or ume plum vinegar, 1T grated ginger, 2 cloves chopped garlic, 1t chile paste.  Run the whole thing through the blender or food processor; I make a larger batch and save it, because I use it on everything.  It is excellent on:
3. Fish salad.  Instead of tuna (I have enough mercury already with a mouth full of amalgam fillings), I buy canned Alaskan sockeye salmon and smoked kippered herring.  I flake this into a bowl with chopped celery, red onion if you like it, sea salt, pepper, olive oil, lemon juice and a splash of red wine vinegar, and some fresh curry powder (this is also fun and easy to make in a coffee grinder). 



(credit)

4. Fermented veggies, such as Bubbies or Real Pickles sauerkraut, beets, carrots or kimchee.  These foods are extremely high in a variety of beneficial bacteria, which will help balance gut flora.  Plus, they taste really good.  There are a lot to choose from, mostly available at the natural food store in the refrigerator case.  Be careful to select fermented, and not pickled foods - pickled foods are preserved in vinegar and do not contain active microbes.  Experiment until you find some that work for you.

The key with all of this is to find foods that fit your life.  Chances are, if you are thinking about trying to change your diet in major ways, you will feel a little overwhelmed.  So pick small things.  As you feel better and become more sensitive to your own metabolism, the cravings will shift to things that are good for you.  Snacks and quick meals are important because eating frequently is good for metabolic activity, and when we get hungry it is easy to "cheat."  Here are some easy substitutes:

1. Instead of  canned soup, make miso.  Buy high-quality, organic miso, such as Miso Master or South River; there are recipes right on the container.  Just carrots and garlic are all you need to make a satisfying, light soup, in about 10 minutes.  
2. Instead of cookies or bread, if you are craving sugar because you need some energy in the afternoon, keep some home-made energy bars in the freezer.  I make mine in the food processor.  Use dates, cashews, almonds, raw honey and unsweetened coconut; use them in that order and adjust the quantities until you have a flavor and texture that you like.  
3. Instead of canned beans, use dried.  This takes a little planning, but not much.  Buy organic, dried beans at the natural food store, and rehydrate them overnight in a slightly acidic medium (add a splash of fresh lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, raw milk or whey to the soaking water).  I leave mine to soak until they have started to sprout, occasionally changing the water.  Once they are soaked, I bag them and put them in the freezer until I want to use them; they can be "recipe-ready" in an hour on the stove.  By soaking your beans, you make them more digestible and release more of the nutrients than are available in canned beans, plus you avoid the added sodium and preservatives in canned beans (not to mention the BPA in the can linings).

When looking for things to eliminate, I don't recommend fixating on favorites - that will just generate cravings and a sense of loss (I gave up coffee when I was diagnosed with cancer, and I feel better for doing it. It is such an important morning ritual for so many, however, that I would not recommend eliminating it from your diet unless you really want to, not just because you think you should.)  So, here are three things that I think can make a big difference:

1. Prepared foods with preservatives.  All those weird ingredients are, well, weird, and the body has to put a lot of energy into processing and detoxing them.  We lack an evolved mechanism for digesting them, because they are so new to our food.  They are usually very expensive anyway - if you are spending that kind of money you can hit the buffet at Whole Foods.  A better way to handle a quick meal is to use the freezer; even if you are not in the habit of making meals and freezing them ahead there are many preservative-free options in the freezer case.  It makes a lot of sense to cook extra and freeze it if you have the space, though.  
2. Stop eating CAFO meats.  It is true that organic, free-range food is more expensive.  I will tell you that I know a lot of independent, organic and ecological farmers personally, and these folks are not driving Maseratis and laughing all the way to the bank when you pay $8/lbs for beef.  I cringe when I hear folks at the natural food store ranting about the produce prices.  Supply and demand drive all prices, of course, and if the consumers won't pay then the farmers won't be able to sell.  But they also won't be able to grow the stuff; the margins are very slim and the producers and retailers aren't making a killing on this.  They are often barely making a living.   I could write a whole research paper on what makes the conventional alternatives cheaper, involving fillers, cheap drugs and your tax dollars at work.  But I won't.  I will just say that you do not want to eat anything that would kill a vulture.  So buy fancy meat, and if it is too expensive, just buy less.  Buy different cuts.  I use a lot of soup bones, or I get overage from friends who have game meat.  And lentils are cheap and really tasty.
3. Avoid the "Dirty Dozen" conventionally farmed produce items (this list and these descriptions are from The Daily Green, but you can find it lots of places):   
1. Celery Celery has no protective skin, which makes it almost impossible to wash off the chemicals (64 of them!) that are used on crops. Buy organic celery, or choose alternatives like broccoli, radishes, and onions.  

2. Peaches Multiple pesticides (as many as 62 of them) are regularly applied to these delicately skinned fruits in conventional orchards. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include watermelon, tangerines, oranges, and grapefruit. 

3. Strawberries If you buy strawberries, especially out of season, they're most likely imported from countries that have less-stringent regulations for pesticide use. 59 pesticides have been detected in residue on strawberries. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include kiwi and pineapples.  

4. Apples Like peaches, apples are typically grown with poisons to kill a variety of pests, from fungi to insects. Tests have found 42 different pesticides as residue on apples. Scrubbing and peeling doesn't eliminate chemical residue completely, so it's best to buy organic when it comes to apples. Peeling a fruit or vegetable also strips away many of their beneficial nutrients. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include watermelon, bananas, and tangerines.  

5. Blueberries New on the Dirty Dozen list in 2010, blueberries are treated with as many as 52 pesticides, making them one of the dirtiest berries on the market.  

6. Nectarines With 33 different types of pesticides found on nectarines, they rank up there with apples and peaches among the dirtiest tree fruit. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include, watermelon, papaya, and mango. 

7. Bell peppers Peppers have thin skins that don't offer much of a barrier to pesticides. They're often heavily sprayed with insecticides. (Tests have found 49 different pesticides on sweet bell peppers.) Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include green peas, broccoli, and cabbage.  

8. Spinach New on the list for 2010, spinach can be laced with as many as 48 different pesticides, making it one of the most contaminated green leafy vegetable.  

9. Kale Traditionally, kale is known as a hardier vegetable that rarely suffers from pests and disease, but it was found to have high amounts of pesticide residue when tested this year. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include cabbage, asparagus, and broccoli.  

10. Cherries Even locally grown cherries are not necessarily safe. In fact, in one survey in recent years, cherries grown in the U.S. were found to have three times more pesticide residue then imported cherries. Government testing has found 42 different pesticides on cherries. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include raspberries and cranberries.  

11. Potatoes America's popular spud reappears on the 2010 Dirty Dozen list, after a year hiatus. America's favorite vegetable can be laced with as many as 37 different pesticides. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include eggplant, cabbage, and earthy mushrooms.  

12. Grapes Imported grapes run a much greater risk of contamination than those grown domestically. Only imported grapes make the 2010 Dirty Dozen list. Vineyards can be sprayed with different pesticides during different growth periods of the grape, and no amount of washing or peeling will eliminate contamination because of the grape's thin skin. Remember, wine is made from grapes, which testing shows can harbor as many as 34 different pesticides. Can't find organic? Safer alternatives include kiwi and raspberries.

I buy organic almost exclusively, but that is a major budget decision and not one that everyone is willing to make.


So there are ten tips.  I tried to pick things that are fairly simple to do; certainly there are lots of other things a person can do to adjust his or her diet.  I have a long way to go.  But first, I need to eat some liver.