Of Puffer fish & Willpower

after weeks of
cleansing fast  a large pizza
her puffer fish act

Another haiku with a story behind it.

Twenty-some years back I met a lady in her mid-forties; in time she became a dear friend. Was it because of her dysfunctional childhood, or the accident she was in that left her in a coma for twelve days, or maybe some of both? At any rate, you’d have to say she was emotionally unbalanced — and had been attending a church where emotional responses were often stirred and encouraged. She was cheerful, likeable, outgoing — but not very disciplined or stable.

At some point she had accepted the concept cleansing fasts, and even discovered a retreat in the country where she could go and cleanse her body of all the impurities tainting our modern diet. In addiction to the physical benefits, she felt that fasting brought her closer to God and told me that one time she had actually fasted for 40 days, just like Jesus. However, I suspect the dream of getting back to a slimmer figure hovered not far in the background.

My dear friend had a couple of weaknesses that affected her health. Like most of us, she was fond of tasty food — which included baking and other sweets. Plus, she smoked — a habit she didn’t like at all. So she viewed going to this retreat for a month or so, where she neither eat nor smoke, was a blessing four-fold: she could relax in a no-pressure environment, lose weight, crack the nicotine habit, and gain spiritually.

We visited her there a couple of times. It appeared she had nothing much to do at this retreat except relax, read, meditate, and detoxify in the small room she was given. There were a number of other guests, with a nurse present 24/7 to make sure no one suffered serious health problems because of the regime. When my friend’s fast was over she was put on a juice diet for a couple of days to re-adjust her body to food. Then she paid the rather hefty bill — this place was into making money as well as healing bodies — and went home.

This “coming back to the real world” got me involved one day — and my involvement brings me to story behind the senryu I’ve penned.

Early one morning my phone rang; my friend was telling me she needed watermelon and could I help her out? Could I buy one and bring it to her apartment? (She didn’t own a car.) She explained that she’d just got home from spending several weeks at the retreat and her body was reacting negatively to food. She needed watermelon to “flush out the salt” being retained in her tissues.

I didn’t know much about what fruits & veggies have diuretic properties, but she mentioned a few and was glad to help. I picked up these foods and went over to her place, where I heard the facts of her current health issue.

When she got home from her fast she’d been so hungry, she ordered an extra-large pizza and ate the whole thing. Her body was reacting big time to the sudden overload.

Reading history I’ve learned this isn’t an uncommon reaction for people who’ve been starved for a time. Their brain registers FOOD! and common sense is lost among the impulses. Their hands automatically start stuffing and people may even eat themselves to death. For my friend, all that salt in her pizza spread through her system, causing her tissues retain fluid until she was uncomfortably bloated.

Maybe puffer fish is an exaggeration, but the simile came to me and I thought it an interesting comparison.

In time my friend discovered one long-term side-effect of those prolonged fasts: starving drains your bones of much-needed minerals like calcium. One day she tripped going down some stairs and broke her leg. Her doctor, after seeing the x-ray, told her, “Your shattered bone looks just like corn flakes.”

It seems self-discipline and will power are rather like muscles. If we don’t use them, they become limp. Bypassing self-discipline in favor of complete abstinence, she short-circuited her willpower. Later, faced with the same temptations, she caved. Food and cigarettes became chronic problems. I won’t say that fasting is either wrong or harmful, in moderation, but nothing can build up the muscles of self-control, or deliver us from our vices, like the day-by-day exercise of resisting temptation.

Sad to say, my friend didn’t live long enough to reap the benefits of all that system-cleansing, either. Shortly after she turned 65 she was diagnosed with intestinal cancer and died a year or so later.

I think of her often, and miss visiting with her.

An Un-Fun Haiku

pill by pill
I put my pain away
prickly spines

Where I’m at today. Not feeling the greatest Sunday afternoon and woke up yesterday morning with something “out” in my lower back. I could hardly walk. Thankfully I’m a little more mobile this morning, but not out of the woods yet.

If you’re young and your spine is supple, do take time every day to keep it that way. This is no fun! 😦

Abstemious Diet Plan

I fear you’re going to get mixed signals between this post and my last one, which was titled An Interesting Home. This is the poem I planned to send under the title, An Abstemious Diet.

I wrote this as a response to the prompt word abstemious. shall I include it in my next book of flash fiction?

Conference with Flesh & Buds

Mad dash threading my way through the crowd,
determined to reach the podium.
Bump into bodies; purses and notebooks trip me;
stop for quick apologies,
then on I rush, my eyes always on the goal.

I have to talk that man!
I have to tell him how his words have ignited my hope!
I will devote myself to the plan he outlined;
I will follow in his footsteps, do just what he did,
and I, too, will achieve!

He turns to leave the podium.
My heart cries, “Wait! I have to talk to you!”
Oh, great–he does stop–
lingering for a few words with the MC.
Reckless now, I dash up the steps.
I’ve made it!
Then all my word fly away as I
gasp for dear life itself.

His eyes meet mine, see my fluster,
understand what I long to say.
I dig into my purse and pull out a chocolate bar;
with ceremony I hand it to him.
He smiles and accepts my offering…
my pledge of purity…
my thanks.

I pivot and disappear down the steps,
embarrassed, but set free.
Self gratification be mortified!
I serve a new master now:
betrothed now to the wonder-working diet plan
this advocate of abstemious eating has just extolled.

Check out my newly published book of short stories and poems here:

Silver Morning Song on Amazon