Raw Transition

Letting go of the shore

“And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” - Anais Nin

People ask me how it was that I could ‘go raw overnight.’ It really did appear that way: I got up one day, after staying up most of the night racing excitedly through the first book about a raw vegan diet & lifestyle that made it into my hands, I called a phone number in the back of the book, and I hired a coach on the spot. From that day forward, I lived as a raw vegan. It’s been a more than 20-year commitment now, and I have had no thought of turning in any other direction, since this one feels like coming home. What people don’t realize though, is that I spent 20 years prior to my quick final transition to raw foods, slowly wading through a variety of other potential dietary paths. Over and over, the medical system had failed to offer me useful nutritional advice, or helpful healthy lifestyle practices, and had failed to offer healing, and so I took my healing into my own hands.

I started reading about nutrition, because I knew instinctively that this was a big key to health. I was determined to find natural answers for my issues, and I was willing to be disciplined - I was truly sick and tired of being sick and tired! With each dietary exploration, I learned more. I tried a macrobiotic approach, then vegetarian, then vegan, then oil-free, then grain-free. Each step felt like an upgrade, as each brought noticeable new benefits. Yet I was still seeking, still on a mission to keep learning, still somehow knowing there was more.

Two particular books really woke me up initially, and catapulted me into a new sphere. These were Fit For Life (the series), by Harvey & Marilyn Diamond, and The Sunfood Diet Success System, by David Wolfe. The Diamonds’ book had a chapter on Natural Hygiene, which deeply resonated for me, providing a profound ‘aha’ moment. After all my explorations, this really brought it all home in such a refreshingly basic, common-sense presentation. Natural Hygiene is simply the basics of healthy living, in accordance with natural laws. Deceptively simple, remarkably powerful, undeniably true – and strangely hidden from the common view! I was finding my way home.

David Wolfe’s book made a compelling case for a completely uncooked, grain and oil-free, whole foods vegan diet. These books got me started on my raw journey, and within a year or so I had refined my path to the fruit-centric, low-fat raw vegan approach I still thrive on today. I had many mentors and teachers in the earliest years of my raw journey, including Timothy Trader, Doug and Rosalind Graham, David Klein, the Boutenko family, Fredrick Patenaude, and Don Bennett, and books from the late natural hygiene ‘grandfathers’ such as Herbert Shelton, and T.C. Fry.

My transition to a fully raw, fully plant-based diet was both incremental and monumental. But transitions of many kinds happen again and again throughout every life, and all of us are provided many opportunities to grow through them. Every life is framed by the transitions of birth and death, morning and night, with countless other transitions in between. Some transitions are inherent, some are foisted upon us, some we consciously, intentionally choose, and some become imperative when our suffering finally becomes unbearable. A rabbi illustrated this last kind of transition with some facts about the life of a lobster. Lobsters have a soft-body which is continuously growing inside of their hard shell, and multiple times in their life-span, pressure builds as the soft-body begins to out-grow the rigid outer shell. When the pressure becomes too great, the hard shell cracks off, and the lobster retreats into a safe place like under a rocky ledge, until a new, slightly larger shell has grown back to protect its soft inner-body again. People are often like this – we find the courage and will-power to change, only when the pressure mounts enough that our discomfort becomes unbearable. And during the most vulnerable parts of big transitions, we need some extra protection.

Like most people, I have experienced all of these kinds of transitions – even death, in the sense of loss. One kind of loss that happens with all big life-changes, is that we have to leave something behind in order to fully turn toward something new. In my early days of my raw diet transition, I obviously had to leave behind many familiar foods and social dynamics. On a deeper level, I had a series of dreams in which I died in the dream. It started to feel a little creepy, until I understood that parts of me that were no longer serving me were dropping away (dying). In the midst of my divorce from my children’s father, I dreamed I was in an airplane that crashed to the ground and burst dramatically into flames. I climbed out of the nose of the plane, and my husband climbed out of its tail. We each turned and looked at each other, confirmed that both of us were intact and all right, and then we each walked off in opposite directions.

“If things are falling apart, know there is a brilliant life force that is breaking through. New life breaks apart the structures that can no longer support your expansion.” - Tama Kieves

By the time I was ready to choose a raw vegan path, I already had under my belt some big experiences with living differently from the mainstream. I had followed my maternal instincts into ‘attachment-style’ parenting, which included co-sleeping with my babies, wearing them in slings, nursing on demand, and child-led weaning. This flowed quite naturally into child-led learning, with the choice to homeschool (and in fact ‘unschool’) all three of my children. I felt compelled to protect my children from artificiality and arbitrary top-down rules and teachings, and to do my best to respectfully facilitate their natural, authentic, unhindered unfolding and blossoming.

“In this new stage, when the dominant corporate culture – our new hyper-tribe – is fast going global and destroying the very essentials of life, staying with the pack takes on new meaning. Eons ago it meant life; now it means death, death for our spirits, and ultimately for our planet….The root of fear, the reason many people feel trapped, even despairing, about the direction of our world, is not what we’ve assumed it was. It’s not just a shaky economy or suicide bombers or ecological melt-down. It’s that we’ve been forced to deny who we are. To discover who we are means risk – of the unknown and of separation from others. Our culture of fear tells us not to risk; yet in our heart, many of us know that the fear of death, however great, is nothing compared to the fear that we might not have lived authentically and fully.” - Frances Moore Lappe

Some life-transitions require that we let go of the shore, and cast-off into the open water. Perspective makes all the difference – when I was able to see that the familiar ‘shore’ was not honestly my place of comfort or safety, and that the ‘open water’ was simply unknown, and not necessarily dangerous, I was able to choose all kinds of change. Parts of me never wanted to leave familiar pleasures and comforts, or outworn but habitual relationships, and parts of me were very reluctant to push-off and encounter possible discomfort, loneliness, disorientation, or other potential hazards.

In the middle of one lonesome dark-night-of-the-soul, soon after separating from my husband, I found myself so weary of the grip of financial anxiety keeping me awake with a terrifying angst, that at 3 am I sat up in bed and honestly asked myself, “What is the WORST thing that could happen?” What entered my mind was that we could lose our home, and I’d become homeless with three small children. So I said to myself, “Then what?” And what I saw was that I am resourceful, I have friends and family, and we would find support and somewhere to stay while I figured out next steps. I even tried on the idea that we could end up in a shelter, or some other unimagined scenario, and as I played that out I pictured us having life-changing experiences and relationships that would cause us to build new muscles and see new things. Maybe we’d later write a book about it, or produce a film….I even got a little excited about this potential transformation! I shook myself out of this reverie, reminding myself that I didn’t actually want to bring that stress upon us unnecessarily, but I was able to relax then, let go, and fall asleep. I had faced my fear head-on, and it didn’t look so terrifying after all.

In one period of my adult life, I used to have a recurring dream in which I was being chased by a wild animal – usually a lion, tiger, or bear – and I would be running for my life, heart pounding, waking up in a cold sweat just before being caught and surely torn to pieces. Then one night, when a lion with a big mane was chasing me in my dream, I suddenly whirled around to face it – and it instantly melted into a cartoon caricature of a lion, and both the cartoon lion and I burst out laughing! I woke up, and those dreams didn’t come back. I treasure the magical mystery of the dream-time, for it so often provides me access to deep wisdom, and a safe space to work through fears that I may not yet know how to resolve in my daytime consciousness.

For most of us, our biggest fears center around separation (death!), losing control, and what we perceive as failure. Yet the way to new discovery, adventure, real pleasure, authenticity, sovereignty and self-actualization, requires letting go of what we fearfully cling to. One fun acronym for F.E.A.R. is ‘False Evidence Appearing Real.’ Another is ‘Feel Everything And Rejoice.’

“If I’m a wave in the ocean and I think I’m separate from all the other waves, then how could I not be afraid of the ocean? How could I not feel powerless? How could I not be terrified that at any moment I might be overwhelmed by other waves? But if I think of myself as I really am – not separate at all from other waves – then I know that I am safe in the ocean and that the power of the ocean is my power too.” - Marianne Williamson

Often, transition times are long and circuitous, and can feel akin to being lost in the wilderness. Our desire for clear directions, definitive guidance and certainty, is radically challenged. What is being asked of us is to sit smack in the middle of the discomfort of the not-knowing, without a map – to let go of our temptation to frantically reach this way and that way, grasping for reassuring answers or at least coping defenses to rescue us from our discomfort. What is really needed is a time of unwinding, undoing, unlearning, de-progamming, and deep listening for new next steps. If we re-attach too hastily out of our fear of being in the gap, we risk missing our true calling.

“Please stop terrorizing yourself. You’re right on track. I know you want to do, do, do. But this time asks of you your ‘undoing.’ Floating without a context or a business card. Unleashing tears you may have shunned for years. Dying to your shell and inhabiting life with sudden sensitivity. Yes, you will kick up every value, belief, hope, and doubt. But what settles down creates your new, solid ground.” - Tama Kieves

My son loved his ‘hammock time.’ We had a full-size hammock hanging in our living room, and Eric would sometimes lie in it for hours or even days, gently rocking the hammock back and forth by pushing his carved walking stick against the floor, while gazing out the window. When at last he would emerge, and re-enter the family life that was buzzing around him, he was either wonderfully calm and grounded, or passionately expressing some new inspiration. Intuitively, he knew how to claim a productive time-out to refresh and reboot himself. So often, my children are my teachers.

A wonderful children’s book about transitions, and facing fear, is called We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. In the story, a father and his young children have a strategy for each challenge they encounter on their ‘bear hunt’ adventure. It goes like this: “We’re going on a bear hunt. We’re going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day! We’re not scared. Oh-oh! Long, wavy grass! We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. Oh, no! We’ve got to go through it! Swishy-swashy! Swishy-shwasy! Swishy-swashy!” They make it to the other side, and pick up the refrain: “We’re going on a bear hunt. We’re going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day! We’re not scared. Oh-oh! A river! A deep, cold river. We can’t go over it……” And so on and so on. In the end, they find a bear, but it chases them and they run all the way home, back through all the challenges, dash into the house and lock the door, jump in the bed and pull the covers over their heads. And they say they are not going on a bear hunt again! Despite this dubious ending (which made for great conversations with the kids), I love the way the family faces each challenge matter-of-factly, choosing to move decisively even in the midst of some fear, and once on the other side they simply pick their ‘it’s a beautiful-day’ mantra right back up, and continue along on their adventure.

I have learned that I can choose how to honor and navigate transitions in my life, from the little ordinary ones like starting and ending each day, to the most extraordinary life changes. I have found that it’s great to practice on the everyday transitions, to cultivate a spirit of honoring all transitions. I love to begin and end each day with a short practice of gratitude and prayer. In my Florida home, I am able to watch the sun setting over the water nearly every evening, and this provides a wonderful natural gateway between the more active day and a more restful evening. When I approach transitions from a frequency of love and compassion, I am able to observe the more challenging transitions with curiosity and wonder, and more sense of healthy detachment. I can be unattached to outcome, and yet stay fully engaged in the transition journey. I can simultaneously let go and stay connected. I can lean on fear as a source of great energy, and I can access inspiration about my potential for growth and self-development in the new and unfamiliar situation.

It really helps me to frequently refresh and renew my personal compass-setting, my inner knowing of my most deeply held values, and most of all to remember my divinity, and my connection to divine guidance and support. Einstein said that one of the most important questions we can each ask ourselves is, “Do I believe that I live in a friendly universe?” I do. Even when the surface of the water of life is rolling and boiling and making great waves, I can find comfort in the stillness beneath or above all of that drama. Transitions are simply passages, spaces between forms. I am learning to embrace the beauty and potential within these passages, to open a space within myself to welcome whatever comes. Expecting nothing. Expecting everything. Taking the steps that I am called to, before knowing the destination.