Gog and Magog

So... I’ve been cleansing.  Fasting for a week, which is always interesting.  Often we eat (or rather over-eat or eat crap) stuff to dampen down our emotions, to distract ourselves from what’s really going on in our lives, our selves. Well, some of us do – others may use alcohol, or work, or drugs or cigarettes or whatever.  Others, of course, may be totally conscious.  *smile*

Anyhow.  It was good.  I had my own little cottage; simple, almost monk-like, yet comfortable, warm, serene.  A candle over the fire.  Flowers on the table. A snugly throw.  Instead of eating, I meditated, did some gentle Zen yoga and walked, in the aura of the Tor at Glastonbury. 

I didn’t talk that much but I listened, and I heard some things I needed to hear.  I met some very beautiful people but the encounter that touched me most deeply was with a tree.  Or, rather, two trees, but one wasn’t listening, or indeed talking, so much.

Gog and Magog.  Ancient oaks.  How old?  Some say 500 years, some go as far as 2,000.  Once they had companions, many of them, an avenue of oaks that led to the Tor and beyond.  There is even a legend that the oaks once linked the Tor to Arthur’s castle in South Cadbury, many many miles away.  Sadly, most were cut down to clear land about a hundred years ago, and just these two remain.  They say they are Druid trees, ‘wishing trees’ – with the ability to help you manifest your deepest desires.  I wonder.

Gog...grumpy old sod.

Gog is male, Magog female.  They stand close, their branches stretch out but cannot touch yet their roots are surely entwining.  Hollowed (hallowed?) out, the centre cannot hold.  They say that Gog is dead but I’m not so sure.  He felt, to me, as if he had sunk deep into himself, as if he could barely be concerned with the world (whirled?) any more.  But Magog kept watch and she was still listening.  Old, for sure, lightning-blasted, twisted, hunched, ancient of days (daze?) but still there, keeping a toe on Gog. 

Magog

I touched her skin and found, to my surprise, smoothness, softness, suppleness and something so deep and serene and loving, it took me by surprise.  And I talked to her and she smiled. I could barely bear to leave.  But, as I did, I noticed something daubed on the fence.  One word. 

That night I dreamed of Gog and Magog. Gog’s branches were growing, stretching down into the ground around, as if to prop him up.  And from those branches new saplings were springing up (and yes, I know, oaks don’t do that, but hey, it’s a dream, okay?) and their leaves were spring green and pure. Does anything truly (true lie) die?   

Detoxing

Imagine waking up each morning feeling full of energy and vitality yet also feeling calm and relaxed about the day to come.   You know what?  Abundant health and wellbeing should be our natural state. We should wake up ready to launch into each day feeling joy, peace and a deep connection with our bodies. 

Yet it doesn’t happen, does it?  There are a whole host of reasons why we avoid total vibrant wellbeing.  But it’s always good to find something external to blame, huh?  So let’s scapegoat those nasty old toxins.

To be fair, the modern world is a bit of a toxic battleground.  Everywhere we turn we are assaulted by generally man-made toxins:  in the air we breathe, the food we eat and the water we drink.  Allergies and sensitivities are on the increase, many caused by the growing levels of pollution in the environment, chemicals in our homes and additives in our food.  Should we eat organic if we can afford it?  Hell yeah.  Should we think twice about the chemicals we put on our skin, in our mouths, around our houses?  Er, yup.

It is not just our physical bodies which bear the brunt either.  Our minds are overloaded; we feel a rising sense of panic when we try to cope with our increasing work load and the deep stresses and strains of coping in an increasingly complicated world.  When mind and body are assaulted, our souls can easily become “lost” in the battle.  We feel physically unwell, emotionally drained and psychically bereft.

So a whole bunch of us throw up our hands, thinking that since toxins are so prevalent why try to combat them?  Equally others fall into the opposite camp, living a miserable life eating seaweed and permanently purging themselves with enemas!  But there is a middle way. You can have your cake and eat it - you just need to cleanse it out every so often. 

I’ve written two books on detoxing and more features than I care to remember.  I looked into all the research, tried out pretty well all the practices and figured out what was worth doing and what wasn’t.  Recently I’ve updated and expanded my first book on the subject, The Detox Plan and Kim has put it out in Kindle format.

The aim was simple. Provide a straightforward, sensible guide to coping with our toxic world.  I tried to take a realistic look at the toxic threat - with clear advice about how you can reduce your own personal toxic load.

There are two programs detailed in the book.  A full one-month program which can be easily fitted into your everyday life or a weekend “retreat from the world”.   

I’m no angel.  I may have known all the theory but I didn’t always put it into practice.  But, as I explained in earlier blog posts, I was inspired by Marek Stefanowicz and his books to smarten up my act.  I became vegetarian (verging on vegan), gave up alcohol and caffeine, and took up meditation and exercise.  I also started fasting (usually one day a week or fortnight) and juicing.  Net result?  I dropped three dress sizes, toned up and barely ever get colds anymore. 

Now, not everyone is gonna want to go that route.  Which is where this modified version comes in – aka detoxing.  If you do regularly overload your body, a periodic detox (now is the ideal time as the weather gets warmer and we edge into spring) is a boon.  Sorry, but there is no gizmo that will do it for you – it’s a case of cutting out the baddies (just for a while) to give your body a break.  It may be a bit tough to begin with (your body becomes addicted to some stuff – caffeine and sugar in particular).  But honestly, you will feel absolutely amazingly good after a thorough cleanse – so good that you may not even want to go back to your old ways!  But if you do, your choice entirely.  Just give your body a break periodically – at the change of the seasons works well.  I hope the book cuts out all the crap (so to speak) and gives a sensible, easy to follow, plan.  

What it doesn't include are the following: 

Colonics.  Seriously you don’t need to do this. 

Gimmicky foot patches, magnets and other malarkeys – save your money, honestly.

Expensive spa treatments.  A nice adjunct but won’t do the hard work for you.

You can buy the book by clicking here  - I’ve also put up a Pinterest board for a bit of added inspiration. 

Making a hash of it all

Adrian is In Bruges this week (capitals because, of course, one can no longer just say ‘in Bruges’ without thinking of the brilliant film). He’s doing his usual thing – eating, drinking, moaning about how tough it is. And I’m here. Making a right hash of things.

Really, I could smack myself. It’s not even as if I have a groaning workload: two columns and a blog post for The Lady are hardly pushing it. Okay, so I should be thinking about rewriting Samael. And I should be working on my new project.

But I keep getting distracted. I blame social media. Someone will make a chance comment on Facebook and I’m off googling and rummaging through my bookshelves. Someone mentions a song on Authonomy and the headphones are on and I’m lost in a nostalgia fest, clicking on link after link after link.

Because there is just SO much out there; so much I want to understand; so many fascinating people to talk to; so much of life I want to grab. How can people ever say they’re bored?

Then, of course, everyday life intrudes. Dogs need walking, clothes need washing, kitchens need cleaning, children need feeding. I decided to fast while Adrian was away (less shopping/cooking etc) but James still needs grub. And then there’s my whole new wellbeing kick. How do I slot in the gym and yoga and meditation?

I tell you, it’s exhausting. And then James texts me to say ‘Can we play squash after you pick me up from school?’ So we play squash and the little toe-rag nearly beats me and by the time we finish it’s late so I think sod it to cooking supper and he successfully persuades me that just ONE meal from the takeaway won’t fur his arteries too much. And, no, actually the chips didn’t tempt me. And then we get onto Assassin’s Creed and kill people and I convince myself it’s okay as it’s Templars and Jerusalem and Rome and all (ancient history, mystical, must be alright, yeah?). And then somehow we end up watching The Inbetweeners and both sit there wincing as the guy horizontally frots himself like an ironing board against this girl.

‘Well, that was embarrassing,’ says James.

‘What was I thinking?’ I reply. ‘I shouldn’t have let you watch it. I'm sorry.  It’s deeply inappropriate.’

‘You’re telling me,’ he replies. ‘I can’t believe I just watched that – with my mother. When you get the next series out on DVD, can I watch it on my own?’

‘Eh?’

See? I’m a walking disaster. Hopeless, hapless mother. Incompetent wage-earner. Crap writer. Lousy housekeeper. Why can’t I be sensible? Why can’t I be like normal people?

But then the sun turns the frosty fields into pixie dust as I walk the dogs. And the SP wakes me up at 2am and so, while he’s having a crap, I stand in the garden in the freezing cold in a t-shirt and UGGs and stare up at the moon, so huge. And then slowly I start to spin around, lost in the night sky. And then I go faster and faster until I’m so dizzy I nearly fall over. And when I come in, I’m so high that I can’t sleep for hours.

And then I think, well, if I were normal I wouldn’t do things like that. So maybe normal is over-rated. And James will probably grow up just fine.

And I’m starting too many sentences with And.

And I’ve got Bob Dylan and Idiot Wind blasting in my ears.

‘You’re an idiot, babe,

It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe.’

I laugh out loud and switch on the PC...

Moon courtesy of Zoe Lynch (http://zoelynch.co.uk/ )