I am addicted to water.

I have been drinking at least eight glasses of water a day for the past month.  It has become a second job, an obsession of sorts.  It takes a lot of determination, thought and energy to actually accomplish this task every single day, but I am committed. 

I had always heard that drinking water was a good idea, but it seemed like an intuitive notion that would be good to do tomorrow. Then I got a spot of benign skin cancer removed. It was a scary diagnosis (though I admit hardly anything in comparison to what many people go through). I asked my my dermatologist what he recommended besides the whole sun block schpeel.  I was hoping for a classified medicinal, scientific secret.  He simply responded,"Drink a lot of water. I drink a lot of water."  I was a little dumbfounded, yoga, fasting, meditation and sixteen years of organic vegetarianism hadn't protected me from cancer.  Drinking water seems so much simpler, obvious, maybe even trite.  I didn't realize until I the diagnosis, that the pursuit of many of my actions has been out of fear of disease and in an attempt to protect my body from the unknown.
I felt like I had tried "everything else", so I committed to drinking eight to nine glasses a day. In the beginning, I had an App on my iPhone that helped me keep track. Now I "do water" before I do anything else- two glasses in the morning, a glass before a cup of tea, a glass before a meal, a glass before coffee.  If I am hungry = water time.  If I am tired = water. I don't need coffee, the way I used to need it.  And rather than taking time every few months to detox with herbs and special yoga poses, I don't feel clogged up or congested in a way to need that, I just keep drinking water.  I think I might be addicted.   But I also think I am ok with that because it is easy, feels really good (and yes, my skin is more clear and have more energy) and I am so grateful I live in a place where I can drink out of the tap.

I didn't know I didn't know

about life beyond the fixed gear bicycle. I have always thought of myself as a beach cruiser kind of girl...

In my attempt to invoke spaciousness and balance in my life, to invite happiness beyond anything I have imagined before, I find myself in living in a little zen sanctuary studio for a few weeks in the canyons above Santa Barbara. Biking is my solitary mode of transportation. What I eat, how I plan the day, all of it has changed living up up up a hill. I don't know if I feel like I am in a dream, or the last few years in New York were a dream, but the contrast feels so stark it must be one or the other, as I am on a technological (internet was out for a week) and dietary detox (eating fresh local organic berries, peaches, bok choy, green beans, melon, oh my).

I can't imagine that I will be able to get back on the subway earnestly, after knowing the sweet rush of a downhill ride on a foggy morning, or the slow climb on the lowest gear under the hot sun. I love that the distance between my place of work and my temporary home is the same, but getting shorter everyday. There are so many delicious smells to breathe in and different trees/plants to notice that I am more enamored each day. Nor did I know that I didn't know that I love the quiet darkness of the night so much, or the simple music of the birds every morning.