Existential Thanksgiving

One might think I were a normal shaver lately. Casually switching from canned foam, to fancy Italian Barber sandalwood, back to Williams... hot, cold... It hasn't been all irritation-free and BBS, but you know how it is. You try that extra-diggy pass, you know exactly what you did wrong. I'm totally content with my handling of hardware and software (though, similarly, I still sometimes forget to rinse something off). It's just my skin throwing the curves, at this point.

Now, I realize that that's largely a function of what I ate, since discovering the soluble fiber cure for wiry hair. As if this weren't enough of a miracle, I have transcended, actually become one with shaving: eating my balm, drinking my aftershave. And in this new quest for overall good health, the seed of which was shaving, I am succeeding. What I learned from pumpkin juice and oatmeal is already helping me understand fermented tea. The fat is melting off of me. My gut seems to have a thriving acid mantle of its own. It's like someone pulled a nipple marked "inflammation," and I'm deflating.

I'm pretty sure I had a systemic candida overgrowth. I might have believed that was the root of it, too, if I hadn't studied organic acids and emulsifiers, etc., in the context of shaving. How the pumpkin allowed sebum to escape the tissue, and stimulated regeneration; how the apple dissolved the goo itself, and alkalizing made the skin tougher. Now it's kombucha with chia seeds, coconut oil... this folk health and beauty craze could herald the (economic) decline of medicine as we know it, not to mention cosmetics!

As with shaving, what seems to be needed socially, once one catches that drift of authentic tradition through direct experience, is some unadulterated education. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out a G+ feed that's always interesting in this regard, with a recent, interesting post:

None of that shit's gonna get me, I know that now. Not dementia, cancer, heart disease... though all feature prominently in my family's health history. Alcoholism did get a good piece of me, years ago, but now I've got the best part of it. Soon, I'll be just as dweezily-looking as any ancient Appalachian, headed for centenarianism. And for that -- my health -- I am especially thankful. I recognize the presence of the great Unknown, and appreciate it as the source of these blessings; and, fully refreshed, will gladly welcome the coming cold and darkness.

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