There’s a certain puritanical joy that comes from feeling hunger. We are so often full, or worse, overstuffed, that it takes more than a minute to wrap your mind around the conceit that perhaps the obverse of that state can be equally pleasurable. It also takes some serious convincing for the body to get on board with the reality of that bit of philosophical musing. Your calorie consumption is substantially reduced on a cleanse. So, too, is your fat and protein intake. For any reasonably active person that translates into an almost constant state of hunger. For example: last night I went to bed hungry; this morning I woke up hungry. It’s only work or being engaged in a hive of activity that distracts your mind from the constant “eat something” signal your body relays to your brain. (Writing this has suddenly turned into torture: I’m basically taking a time-out from my hunger distraction to remind myself that I’m really quite hungry.) Earlier today, when I was conveniently distracted and Zen-like about all this, I can truthfully say that I felt a distinct lightness of mind, as though my brain was hovering detached from my body, relishing the control. Coupled with a buoyant spring in my step, it felt like my whole being was enjoying this purge on some cellular level. Now that I’ve been reminded of my hunger, it’s all I can think about. I know that’s part of the process of this cleanse: listening to your body, recognizing your hunger, living with – not ignoring – it. But I don’t think I’ve evolved quite that far. Yet.
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