Sweet Peace #30: Review of Progress

Back in Santa Barbara

Well into the second half of this self-imposed challenge, perhaps a review is in order? I decide to reread the posts made since this journey began on December 21, 2021, when I wrote:

Sugar has always been a central character in my drama: 

a reward, a treat, a temptress, a siren song 

leading me toward the rocky shores of a toxic desire. 

… for the next 52 weeks, 

I am going on a journey to find non-food/drink 

replacements for the desire for sweetness.

… finding sweetness in life, indulging in joy and celebration, focusing on gratitude and connection 

rather than taste bud ecstasy.

The first post ended with healing words from Maria Sabina:

“Heal yourself with the light of the sun 

and the rays of the moon. With the sound of the river 

and the waterfall. With the swaying of the sea 

and the fluttering of  birds.

Heal yourself, with  beautiful love, 

and always remember ... 

you are the medicine.” 

The second post, written after the chaos of the holidays, outlined some guidelines which still seem on track:

- Create emotionally supportive non-food rituals and celebrations.

- Avoid eating in a moving car. 

- Avoid solo sugar … allow it to be a small treat saved for social settings.

- Understand that if I buy it, I will eat it … all of it.

Major Win: A 63-day sugar fast seems to have broken the obsession. Sugar cravings seldom happen and I seem to be able to tolerate it occasionally without triggering a binge. The process of limiting sugar to rare social events seems to hold the sugar cycle at bay. 

I also know how easily I could lose this peace if I once again open the door. Having lunch with a friend, I noticed a family celebrating a birthday. At the head of the table was a lovely bundt cake dripping with icing and I could feel it tugging at me as I walked by. However, thoughts of sugar have diminished and that feels good.

One of my favorite movies … Jeremiah Johnson … has a line when the ancient griz hunter (Bear Claw) says to the now-seasoned mountain man (Jeremiah), “Ye’ve come far pilgrim.” 

I, too,  feel that I have come far, with even further to travel.