21 day water fast: introduction
Exactly three years ago, I began a journey into what I can only describe as one of the special events of my life: a 21-day water fast. Even now, it remains as fresh and vivid in my memory as if it were yesterday…
Exactly three years ago, I began a journey into what I can only describe as one of the special events of my life: a 21-day water fast. Even now, it remains as fresh and vivid in my memory as if it were yesterday…
I’m writing this 38 days after the end of the fast. Why now? Because yesterday I finally ran a solid half marathon in the hills at my usual pace and with no sore muscles today. Because the day before that I reached my usual number of push-ups for the first time since finishing the fast. Because earlier in the week I stood on the scales and found that I’m fully back to my pre-fast weight again…
A lot has happened physically over the last seven days. My digestion is moving pretty smoothly again, though I’m lacking almost completely in appetite. Already during the first two or three days following the fast, my stomach was working well, digesting and passing on food to the intestines. From here, though, I could feel my intestines trying to draw out and absorb every last possible gram of nutrition. In doing so, a kind of digestive traffic jam began to build up as my body slowed down the forward progress of food to achieve this goal…
I slept five whole hours last night – and all in a single stretch! This is my big news. Five hours in a single stretch: literally the first time for more than two weeks. I know the natural assumption is that it must feel like a relief, but, honestly, it’s not that simple…
I woke up into the darkness, with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude: for the universe, for Réka and the opportunity to be here – as well as for the fast itself. I sat down to meditate, with the expanse of gratitude laid out as a back-drop to everything in my mind. It felt and continues to feel like an inner smile expanding from all directions in and around my heart. Everywhere, almost as if my body were breathing the mantra: ‘thank you, thank you, thank you…’
Today is the last full day of fasting. By the evening I’ll already be into Day 21. The feeling, which came to me as I woke up this morning, is that of when you’re about to say goodbye to an old friend whom you know you’re not going to see for a while. There’s an element of regret in parting from each other, but you know that your friendship is stronger than the time and distance you’ll be spending apart. And besides, you know you’ll meet again…
I woke up this morning, my first thought slightly tinged with sadness at how close the end of the fast is. It really is close now. After today, just one more full day before Day 21, and I slowly begin to reintroduce food back into my life…
Driving into town yesterday provided a reference point about how my consciousness has naturally and gradually opened from a more focussed perspective. In retrospect, the whole trip itself provided another, deeper reference point, because since then – in breaking the solitude and continuity of being here at the cottage, as well as in buying the food which will break the 21 days of pure water – I keep finding myself thinking about the approaching end of the fast…
Today I went into town to buy fruit for the end of my fast. The thought of going to the shops had a certain exotic excitement to it – in contrast to my usual apathy towards shopping. And yet, mixed into the feeling was also one of slight sadness that the fast is going to end soon. Driving the 10km from the village into town, I realised that I’m really not quite with it…
Last night I realised that I’m at the three-quarters point of the fast. But numbers mean nothing. They cut up the truth of unadulterated reality. The truth is, I often can’t even remember which day of the fast I’m on, let alone what day of the week it is…