How to get slim by giving your body exactly what it wants
Half a jar of stem ginger
Half a jar of stem ginger, nice and bulbous crunchy hot,
and all the fiery sugary juice. One coffee flavoured yoghourt
desert (low fat) dabbed on tongue with small spoon. Several
large gulps of fresh orange juice making a yuk yuk yuk sound
as I glug them down. All this eaten walking down Hampstead
High Street, late at night, on the way home in the rainy dark,
afraid in case some madman jumps me (London has many it seems,
though luckily Hampstead is a good district and safe).
Back in my spacious rented rooms, relax in comfy chair reading
wonderful book by Oriah Mountain Dreamer – ‘The
Invitation’. Trying not to get it sticky as it is one
of the most inspiring pieces of writing ever written and I
have the greatest respect for this woman. After a shallow
and brittle cocktail party, she wrote: “it doesn’t
interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to
know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if
you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become
shriveled and closed from fear or further pain. I want to
know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving
to hide it or fade it or fix it…”
The whole piece has depth like this - it is utterly brilliant,
profound and moving. You might already know it from the Internet
as it has flown around the world many times already. Now she’s
expanded on it as a book, published by Thorsons.
Earlier in the day, Hyde Park, beautiful, green, one small
plastic pack of ‘tropical mix’, no ‘E’
numbers (artificial additives) except in the dried papaya
(so I ate those bits, John didn’t want them. Very different
from the squashy juicy rich real papaya of Bali). Large fat
very long sultanas, almost light green in colour. Dark raisins,
rich sienna red peanuts, dried pineapple (John pinched all
of the latter, which was ok because I ‘Don’ Like
It’ as my daughter Cahya would say). At the end he gallantly
gave me back most of what was left which was mine anyway.
“ You look like you’re permanently thin, then”
John appraises, looking at me in the Italian halls. “Yes!”
I smile. “I was a twelve, and now I’m an eight
to ten! I just try to follow exactly what my body really wants,
and give it exactly that, however weird it seems, as if it
were my best friend”.
We are walking in Hyde Park now, lots of people out and about
among the green. Mums, pushchairs, babies. A jogger jiggles
by and John wonders aloud whether he will ever be able to
stop looking at breasts. I tell him I look at them too and
that it’s hardly surprising because they are interesting.
We talk about breastfeeding a bit and I make him laugh with
a story about my daughter Cahya wanting to suckle the nose
of a rather round pale looking teddy whose face she was convinced
was a breast. John wistfully says he wishes he could breastfeed.
I think he means, he wishes he could nurture a child.
Crossing the road in the park, he says it’s difficult
not too eat too much if you’re bored or lonely. I say
yes, that’s true, and the first step to not doing it
is realising. I tell him that I will leave food on the plate,
stop once I’m full and he says “I wish I could
do that!”
We come to a lovely garden. There are huge swathes of soft
pinky purple open faced flowers jiggling in the warm breeze.
Great banks of purple and tiny ground clinging roses, petals
striped pink and white, they look just like raspberry ripple
icecream. The scent of roses wafts over us. A family of black
children are flinging spectacular cartwheels on the grass.
Their corkscrew haired mum pulls down her wrinkled skirt and
poses against a backdrop of blossoms. “Quick! Take my
photo” I say, posing, and he does, through squared hands
as we have no camera.
We walk along the wide sandy bridle path next to the grass,
and five immaculate chestnut horses canter by, along with
a sturdy black and white shire, ridden by children bobbing
up and down confidently, smart in beige and black riding outfits,
shiny boots, crops. “Can you ride?” I ask. “Kind
of” he says. “It just seems like a painful excuse
to get your bottom bashed up and down, to me” I say.
“But I’m good at not falling off”. I once
rode a friend’s horse along the shore in Jersey, and
it lost its footing down a hole and reared up like a bucking
bronco. “My friend Wendy looked into my face and said
‘You stayed on, didn’t you’? “Well
it just seemed a lot more attractive than letting go!”
I replied through gritted teeth. “They’re dangerous
when they rear up, that’s when they can roll on you”
nods John sagely.
We come to another secret place – lovely tennis pavillion
unknown to the café crowding hordes, and sit blissfully
alone on rustic log benches in the pretty gravel garden, surrounded
by manicured bushes, stripy lawns. Occasional ‘thock’
of a tennis ball, shouted call, and flash of a white skirt
or shorts through the distant fencing.
A smiling, brown gardener twirls his orange high-tech spivelled
hoe round and round happily like a marching band and narrowly
avoids stabbing himself in the foot. We chat about a gardener
friend who turned his business around when his Dad refused
to support him any more, and he also set himself a daily earnings
target. Since then he has hit the target every day and sometimes
even exceeded it.
John looks thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s the really
simple things that make a difference” he says.
Mum phones, and is happy to hear I’m in the park having
a nice time. Back from the doctor “I’m ok!”
she cries gleefully. She talks of the uncomfortable lump that
had appeared under her ribs. I say that it’s funny her
physical symptoms sound just like when she was pregnant with
me and I was up the wrong way. “Yes!” She says
“your head was stuck under my ribs and it felt just
like this! It’s because she worries about me, she says.
John walks me back to Green Park station and we say goodbye.
Walk alone, despondently, yet simultaneously enjoying the
action packed environment all around, to Piccadilly, the very
epicentre of London. Eros, the silvery winged angel, prances,
firing an arrow up Shaftesbury Avenue, remembering Lord Shaftesbury,
who rescued many poor children from sweeping sooty chimneys
a hundred years or so ago. Well, I don’t suppose many
people here are remembering him right now – they’re
watching the jugglers throw giant cotton reels twenty metres
up into the air from a springy
hand-stretched string. Or having their photos taken next to
the four stone horses and fountain. Or eating dripping ice
lollies.
In China town, I peer, wraith-like, in the window of my favourite
restaurants, Joy King Lau and Poons, remembering, surprised
and happy to find them still there, but I am put off by high
prices and by pale pine floors and tables, neatly crossed
legs of the female customers wearing short black skirts, lowered
voices in conversation. It’s a bit formal and high-class
and I feel I will stick out here a bit on my own. I miss Putu
and Cahya, my husband and daughter, still in Bali.
I wander around, still feeling a bit sad, and happen upon
a ‘four pounds fifty eat as much as you like Chinese
buffet’. It turns out to be fun, whirling round and
round the small circular serving table, steaming steel dishes,
smiling young waiter, happy customers in quick turnaround,
calling foranother impossibly high pyramid, a thousand crispy
spring rolls. Feels a bit like the ‘conga’ here
(a snake like party dance where everyone joins hands at the
waist and parades around) at the end of a good-natured party.
Everyone is laughing and joking and enjoying the experience,
it’s nice. I eat rice for the first time since I left
Bali, steamed vegetables, it’s tasty.
I sit opposite a young Chinese man at a miniscule round table
in the corner
by the window. We don’t talk, but I am somehow relieved
to see an oriental face. I have been missing them.
How to get the body you desire
If you want to go from a size twelve to a size eight by the
way (apart from breastfeeding for two years like me, which
obviously has an effect!), you might like to try these:
1. Don’t criticise your body!
I notice that many people seem to constantly be in ‘punishment
mode’ with themselves over their bodies – always
finding fault and criticising. Instead, start appreciating
your body, as it is now. Thank your flabby legs for carrying
you around, appreciate your fat belly as a reflection of who
you are now, etc. Accept.
2. Give your body the food it wants
Ask your body, lovingly, what it needs, and then provide it.
Provide precisely what it asks for (ie, if it wants the syrup
from the ginger jar, give it just the syrup. If it wants coffee
cake, give it coffee cake, not hazlenut cake. If it wants
fresh orange juice, give it fresh orange juice, not canned
stuff or cordial).
This is so much better than withholding things from your
body which then causes a ‘binge’ effect later
because you are still craving the thing that you originally
wanted (probably quite legitimately – your body knows
exactly what it needs!)
3. You are not a dustbin!
Learn to listen to when your body wants to stop eating. While
eating, keep asking your body ‘have you had enough?’
and try to stop whenever that is. Even if the cake is only
half eaten, stop. You don’t need to finish everything.
If its not needed, better to put it in the dustbin rather
than in you. You are not a dustbin!
4. Eat when you are really hungry
If you don’t particularly feel like eating at a mealtime,
don’t. Skip the meal. Wait until you really feel like
eating again, then eat. Don’t worry about when other
people are eating. Let them do their own thing, you do yours.
Allow your personal rythmn to unfold.
5. Cultivate positive beliefs about your body
Try to acknowledge that your body is your willing servant.
It manifests out of you. It is not a ‘thing’ just
kind of stuck in reality with no connection to your mind.
Neither are you in a conflict or war with it. You shouldn’t
really be struggling with it. You are creating your body,
moment by moment, by your thoughts and attitudes.
You might like to write down all the body related beliefs
you presently hold: “I believe my body is …”
“I believe fat is …’ If you do discover
negative ones like ‘I hate my body’ or ‘I
can never be thin’ then re-write new positive ones for
yourself like ‘my body is becoming more beautiful every
day’ or ‘I am becoming easily slim’, ‘I
accept my body just as it is, right now’. Whatever seems
right for you. Write them in the present, so that they happen
now.
Do not underestimate the power that your beliefs have in
creating a slim body, or almost anything else that you desire!
Beliefs seem to be the building blocks that underpin just
about everything that happens to us.
6. Use ‘positive affirmations’
Use your new ‘positive beliefs’ as often as possible,
saying them to yourself in the mirror, or writing them many
times. Here is a a very good mantra, the one I use: “My
body is a beautiful expression of myself.“ It’s
powerful.
7. Nurture your body
Give yourself a massage with scented oils, relax in a hot
bath, have a pedicure, go swimming – anything that makes
your body feel cared for and good. This will help get you
into a feeling of nurturing and caring for yourself, get you
out of criticising.
8. Don’t stress over it!
Don’t put pressure on yourself for anything to happen,
by the way, don’t keep jumping on the scales, just continue
to focus on trying to serve your body and give it exactly
what it needs.
If you must measure progress, use a tape measure. Measure
chest, waist, hips, thighs. Write the measurements down and
check again in a month.
9. Consider cutting out meat and dairy
Meat has a tremendous ‘bunging up’ effect on the
body. It is literally old, dead energy. Consider replacing
with fish (don’t ask me why fish is better – it
just is!). Dairy is mostly just heavy fat. You may find that
cutting these out makes you feel lighter, fresher, and more
positive. Best of all, fresh live veggies contain ‘prana’
– the same life force (or ‘chi’) that is
generated by the body by yoga. Why not put that into your
body, instead?
10. Do some yoga
Not just to get a lithe long body (you will, you will) but
if you have trouble getting in control, yoga will give you
discipline which enables choice and control.
11. Look at your ‘need for protection’
One metaphysical interpretation of fat is that you are putting
a layer of protection on your body. So, if you want to counteract
that, look at any areas of your life where you might ‘feel
unsafe’. How could you make yourself feel safer? (And
this doesn’t mean by hiding yourself away – it’s
about finding ways of getting more comfortable with risk!)
You may need to confront some fears in order to make yourself
feel safe. Like, instead of worrying about how someone else
might feel if such and such happened, call them up and ask
them! Take a risk! It takes courage. But it’s so worth
it!
12. Take all advice with a pinch of salt
Especially if you don’t want a rumbly tummy from too
much ginger…
Hope you have fun pleasing yourself, and discovering exactly
what you really want – and need.
NEXT ISSUE: ‘Recovering Marc Bolan’ - picking
over the bones of a previous existence... and choosing what
to repack for the onward journey…
Jeli Lala created the ‘Ashram of Spiritual Jewellery
and Art’ at no. 1, Sukma St., Tebesaya, Ubud, with her
husband, Putu S. She has studied yoga and many other spiritual
practices for more than ten years. She writes “As a
life-long artist, I’ve been exploring my inner world
since I was a child. In this column, I will share some of
my personal experiences and spiritual methods – hopefully,
you’ll find this interesting, and maybe it will give
some ideas for your own journey”.
Jeli welcomes comments and may be contacted on:
Email: jelila@jelila.com
Website: www.jelila.com or www.imagine-retreats.com
