Jim here… Wow, did you read yesterday’s post?  Wendi is away for a month starting today. That’s like a year in Internet time, right?

So, I guess I have the blog to myself for a while. So strange… I mean, I helped her set it up back in late ‘07, contributed numerous articles and a lot of behind-the-scenes time along the way, and then got really involved here (regularly — daily, even) about a year ago. But, I never “had the keys” all to myself for a long spell. I feel as though I’ve been entrusted with something important, you know?  I must control that strange compulsion within me to, you know, run a silly cat video or something. But, I’ll resist and keep things on-point. (LOL)

Thanks so much to everyone for the well wishes directed at Wendi. Trust me: She appreciates it SO much!  While she’s away healing, I would invite any of our readers to ask me anything they want about raw foods, a guy’s perspective of a raw issue, how to transition your husband, or whatever you want. I do love answering questions!  Aside from that, I suppose I’ll just cover all sorts of raw topics, as usual.

For example, the other day I was trolling Facebook and happened across someone’s posting of Philip McCluskey talking about what he calls ”Fathead Syndrome.”  It’s a great video for anyone who’s lost a lot of weight. The funny thing is that, in a list I keep online of future blog post topics (yes, we do plan ahead here!), I had written two simple words of my own as one bulleted item: “phantom fat.”  It’s very similar to some of the points Philip makes in his video, so I figure now’s as good a time as any to continue my own meditation on that topic.

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If memory serves, I first encountered the term “phantom pain” during a M*A*S*H episode. It usually refers to the phenonenon whereby an amputee feels sensations (usually pain) in a limb that has been amputated.  So, phantom pain is when you feel pain in a part of your body that does not exist!  Similarly, I coined term “phantom fat” almost jokingly, after noticing a similar phenomenon in a highly pronounced way.

I’d gone home to make lunch for Wendi and KDcat a few months back and, upon serving the food in the dining room, sat down in my chair as normal. I suppose I had some sort of oddly fitting shirt on that day or something, as I suddenly felt a very real bodily awareness of a “spare tire” – that infamous ring of abdominal fat often known as “love handles.”

The problem is:  I don’t *have* a spare tire any longer!  (Well, not that this is a problem, exactly;  rather, it’s a very good thing!) But, seriously, I had to take a minute and actually reach down, putting my hands on my waist to check. Because of the odd sensation I’d just experienced, it was confusing to feel my waist leanly angling inward and not laden with the fat that was there for so many years. How strange, though, to experience that old sensation again.

You see, when you lug around 70 extra pounds for so many years (as in literally decades), you develop kind of a mental projection of what your body looks like. I mean, you see it every day, and you feel your clothes hugging your bodily countours every single day of your life. And, trust me, when you’re fat, you’re hyper-aware of that clinginess — and, well, it just sucks.

It wasn’t so bad in the fall and winter, when I could wear extra layers to conceal it all. But, throughout the spring and summer when fat was not so easily hidden, this was certainly part of my daily awareness. This was always also part of what I hated about the corporate world, btw – always having to wear tuck-in shirts (which reveal fat all too well). I can tell you that, throughout most of my 18 years in the corporate world, one of the first things I would do upon exiting the office building at 5:00 or 5:30 p.m. was to un-tuck my shirt. I always felt an immediate sense of mental relief doing so. That was my experience, anyway. And, thin as I am now, my work shirt is still usually untucked by the time I get to my car in the evening.

I know there’s a lot of advice out there about accepting yourself and learning to be happy about being a “plus sized” woman or a “husky” male, but I could never get to that space while I was overweight. I was always conscious of it, at least to a certain extent. I think during times when I wasn’t so conscious of it, I was actually deluded about it — and that’s probably worse.

What I mean by that was that I actually adopted a mindset at 235 pounds that I was a normal-looking person (size-wise). I didn’t think I stood out all that much, and used to just scoff any time a coworker made joking reference to my having extra “girth” (yes, that’s a quote). Psychologically and emotionally, this denial served as my own warped version of self-acceptance — especially when no real solution to my weight problem ever presented itself.  I see now, of course, how this inner-frustration really held back the development of my spirit, and even informed my sometimes cynical view of the world at the time. I still see that cynicism in my coworkers.
 
Looking back at the old pictures, though… I clearly wasn’t very normal. I was on heart pills, for crying out loud!  So, regardless of whether my psychological outlook was healthy, I don’t think my physical reality was doing me any good at the time. The weight simply needed to come off — only, I didn’t think it was possible. Maybe I’d just accepted my “fate,” as it were.

I’m hesitant to discuss this here any further, even though it is my own truth, because I’m now highly conscious of what others are going through with their weight – the soul-crushing frustration they’re feeling inside (even if they’re not showing it, and even if they’re unaware of it). Worst of all, I fear that my discussing it may make some people regard themselves in a negative way, and that’s not my intention at all. Some may think, “Oh, sure, it’s easy for you to say since you already lost the weight. But what about me? What about people who are still struggling?”
 
Well, for those of you who are still struggling, my #1 take-home message is: “Stop!”  Stop right *here*. And, by “here,” I mean specifically raw foods. It works. Raw works — and it works for all of the right reasons. It’s not gimmicky, dangerous weight loss like Atkins or other fad diets. It’s just 100% pure health food, eaten 100% as it comes from Mother Nature. And that goes for most ailments, above and beyond obesity.

Raw is immediately intuitive, as well. What could possibly be better for you than raw fruits and vegetables? (Deep down, you already know that the answer to that question is: Nothing!) So, eat salads, read raw food sites, meet other raw food people. That’s my message… So, if you’re still struggling, that’s what I want you to do. Just adopt raw foods and give it a good honest run.
 
So, when I talk about fatness and so forth, know that I’m not coming down on those who are still struggling with weight. In fact, I’m your most hyperly-enthusiastic fan, a crazy raw food jester jumping up and down with more energy than you can imagine, waving you into the circle of renewed health and vitality. You’ve got to want it and feel worthy of it, of course (and that’s actually a pretty big psychological hurdle for some — a topic near and dear to Wendi’s heart, I know). But once you truly want it, it’s here for you.
 
You see, the thing is… both “lasting weight loss” and “dramatic revitalization” of the human body and spirit are really rare things in the world — generally speaking. Most popular diets simply do not work, or only work temporarily (resulting in the yo-yo lifestyle). Most exercise regimens, in my view, also aren’t enough for all people to maintain health.

However, in the raw food world, these incredible transformations are kind of commonplace. I’m astounded by the number of people I’ve met who have adopted this lifestyle and turned their lives around 180 degrees – and I sometimes feel like we’re all just preaching to the choir on some of this stuff. At the same time, though, I know that a lot of our readers here at Pure Jeevan are new to raw, or have just found our site through and internet search, or maybe a Youtube video. So, I like to speak to different audiences from time to time.
 
This “phantom fat” — or “fathead syndrome” or whatever you want to call it — is probably a bit of an advanced topic specific to a lot of people in the raw food world. … Why?  Because the diet actually works. We lose the weight, and we actually keep the weight off. So, we actually GET to experience it.  If you’re on a yo-yo dietary existence, you never get that far. So, it’s a good sign, in my opinion!

And so it’s no wonder these experiences are apparently common among raw foodies.  I find it incredible, by the way, how so many raw foodies are really tuned into many of the same ideas and premises. It’s living proof that we all experience the same phenomenal results.  So, I encourage you to read as many raw blogs as possible, and you’ll begin to notice the same kinds of experiences, the same common denominators, the same vibes running throughout the scene. To me, that’s proof positive that it works.

Anyway, as far as phantom pain goes, it’s recognition that’s key here. Since we’re really talking about a psychological / emotional / spiritual phenomenon here, I think the experience invites us to broaden the metaphor a little bit. If we’re capable of phantom pain, what else are we capable of?  For example, are we capable of phantom fear? Or other phantom emotions?  Can can one trigger the other?

I bring up fear in particular because, as I’ve lived this lifestyle longer and longer (and I’ll concede that this could be a coincidence, although I don’t think so), I’ve noticed more and more behavior in others that seems to be rooted in and driven by pure fear. For example, I was forwarded by email just a week ago, from a well-meaning and concerned friend, containing a lengthy manual designed to enlighten me on how to survive the end of the world. I realize there are practical reasons for being prepared (such as keeping some extra supplies around during the winter in case of a power outage).  However, the cover of this manual depicted a mushroom cloud, gas masks, and other terrifying imagery.

That cynicism I spoke of, and that fear, and so many other negative emotions… they’re really part and parcel to my own pre-raw existence and, I suspect, to the lives of so many who are unknowingly under the influence of physical, emotional, and spiritual malnourishment. What is the meaning of reliving these emotions? I don’t know that I have a good answer. …  I don’t know, that is, that I have a single answer right now. But I do have theories. It could serve to remind us that others need help still. It could mean we’re merely experiencing a past emotion based on some triggering event. It could mean there’s a lesson for us to learn still. Or something else. But, it’s important to at least recognize it, meditate on it, and keep the experience in mind for future reference.

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