Are Dreams Paleo?

It's been tough-going in the Paleodome recently, especially if you are one of those puffy fat red-faced old people.  I was thinking later last week how much I wanted to pull away from it a bit, but also sad that this tribe I thought I would be able to fit into really has no place for me.  But, my discomfort was more than just that.  I had been thinking about the divisions, the hierarchies and the increasing rigidity and the grindingly boring one-sidedness of all the discussions.  And, I don't mean between the low-carbers and safe-starchers.  It's all so scientific.  Is being so scientific while lacking creativity, intuition, play, or harmony, is it really Paleo?

(Here's the musical interlude)

Such a division between the people at the top and their patients and fans, I concluded that my only role in the paleo world was to be a consumer.  Pretty much everyone is here to hawk their books, gyms, websites and products, to advance their careers and prop up their egos, or to be a patient.  Some have really been into the commercial aspect, others have been more freely giving and committed to "the cause".  But I wasn't being very good at this consumer part, as is any other consumer who is living in a van down by the river. Where is the part about just being?

Richard Nickoley has his Free the Animal.  But I want to free the Shaman, free the Fool, free the Dreamer, Free the Drummer, free the Mystic, free the Dancer.  Certainly they were as important to paleo life as caves, wild game, berries, macronutrient percentages and reverse T3 values?  More importantly, I want to be free.

Before I just gathered up all my atlatl's and left, I had a dream.  Now the really interesting thing about doing Dr. K's leptin reset it that I can sleep all through the night, without having to get up or anything, there is this very very long dream time before the dawn, and the dreams can go on with many passageways.

In my dream, I am working at a company as a consultant.  I have a long-term contract that I know will be ending soon.  I already started taking some of my personal items home from the office, my technical books, knicknacks, extra clothing.  One morning I get to the office and discover that the management decided to move on to the next big project right away, so they moved the office around.  They got rid of my office.  I can't find my desk or the stuff that I had carefully locked inside of it.  I am irked that they don't even have the decency to let me get to my desk to clean it out myself.


I mention to my co-workers that there is still work to be finished, but they say that the management cancelled everything, that they didn't even care about any of the documents, designs, blue-prints, nothing, or whether I have a desk.  We all think that was short-sighted.  My co-workers help me find parts of my old office:  my desk in one area, a chair down the hall.  They carve out a place for me as I go through my desk to get my purse.  They had put my desk near an older man scheduled for retirement.  He is really annoying, as he has fallen asleep at his desk and is snoring.  I make a mental note to call my business partner immediately, so we can find another gig.


Before I leave the office, I stop by a small courtyard outside the back.  It is the place were people go for a quick lunch or a smoke.  Someone had put in a small garden.  I noticed that there are several older lettuce plants that have gone to seed.  I pull off some of the seeds and notice that they are much larger than usual.  They look more like watermelon seeds than lettuce seeds, and I think, could it be that they are really lettuce?  That's when I remember that a like-minded friend had planted them.  They are a very ancient heirloom variety, and very rare.  I am sure the new management won't want these old seeds.  They are into the newer hybrid and genetically-modified varieties.  I pack them up with my four boxes of stuff and leave.

Now I am leaving the Paleo tent for awhile, not sure all where I am going.  I don't know all what it will be, but I do know more about what it won't be.

First.  I am not on a diet.  Not a low-carb diet, not a "safe" diet, and if you are reading this, not YOUR diet!  It will be mine, all mine, and I am not going to tell you about it.  I am tired of measuring, tracking, defending, tweaking, adhering, and tired of having computer-chair experts taking pot-shots at it, telling me I am stupid for following it, or telling me I am stupid for not following it.  Maybe someday if I really figure something out I'll spill the beans.  I might keep track, but it won't be on the computer with big red circles around it.

Second.  I am not a patient.  I am not going to order expensive tests, go to expensive specialists, compounding pharmacies, and I am not going to be an A, B or C student.  I am giving myself credit for just showing up to my own study program.  I am not going to try to change my doctor's mind.  Actually, I am going to try to avoid doctors of all kinds.

Third.  I am not metabolically deranged.  Gotta love it when the experts declare their perfect theories of everything, and then deride people who share a different experience.  Well, I am no longer living under that tent.  I remember when Dr. Gardener was lecturing about his A to Z study and he said menopausal women were excluded from the study for obvious reasons which he'd get into later, but he never got to it.  Neither have most other diet researchers.  Menopause is not a disease or a condition!  For more than half of us, it is a way of life eventually.  And, if someone tells me I'm not whole or optimal or clean or perfect if I don't follow their program, well, then it is their program that is deranged, not me.

I have always been a fan of Dr. Richard Feynman, the other doctor Feynman, that real Paleo guy.  In college, when I saw him playing drums out in the desert, I told myself, hey I'm going to do that some day.  About 20 years later I had the opportunity to learn to play the drum.  Recently this drummer group I used to be in has re-formed.  We play for a tribal dance group, and I get to play flutes, strings, drums, zills and didges, sing, yelp and clap my hands.  These people are my people.  I'm going to hang out with them for a time, at least until the next performance.

This week, I heard my neighbor's dog barking so I went outside to see what was going on.  A sidewalk conversation had turned into a party.  So, a realtor, an oncologist and a pilates instructor walked onto a sidewalk..... I turned off my computer and joined the party.  Soon the wine was flowing, pumpkins and other backyard fruits were exchanged and we were planning the next party.  I want to do more of this.

I'll visit and comment on other sites when I feel like it, and comment on this here blog when I have something to say.  That may be tomorrow, who knows.  Maybe I will be happy with one night of freedom.  I am cooking up some other projects for this winter, and with a big project in March, so stay tuned.