The Alkalizing Diet. Istvan Fazekas

defy the laws of wellness for the quick fix. As a humorous Billy Crystal character from a popular Saturday night comedy show used to say, “It is much better to look good than to feel good, dahling.” This may be the new national motto.

      This is from the Centers for Disease Control (CDC):^iv

Figure 1. Most common causes of death in the United States, 1999*

* Rates are age adjusted to 2000 total U.S. population.

      Not only are the older generations falling into (or never crawling out of) bad habits, but we have a whole new generation of Americans who see the world of health within very inadequate parameters. The primary concern is that we are breeding an entire generation of youth who are so suspicious or ignorant of the healing power of the natural world that fresh fruits and vegetables will appear as archaic to them as muzzle-loaders and ball bearings appear to the modern soldier.

       True confession #2767: The Orange and the Cheerleader

      I was once teaching a class about fascia, the pervasive connective tissue of the body that covers all major anatomical structures, from muscles to bones, tendons to organs. A teaching analogy that I use is an orange. The basic structure of an orange has the pith, which we can use to represent the body’s superficial fascia, the connective tissue underneath your skin. The individual orange slices represent each muscle and its own covering. Each pocket within an orange slice represents a distinct structure—that is, muscle cells, nerves, and so forth. From there I introduce the fascinating connective tissue networks, from macro to micro.

      During this particular class, a young girl recently out of high school, the captain of her cheerleading team, raised her hand. “What do you mean?” she asked with a look of bewilderment. I explained that the orange represents the way the body has wrappings around its various layers. “I am still confused,” she persisted with a tilt of the head, reminiscent of Nipper the dog staring into the old Victrola. “Okay,” I gestured toward her and began redrawing my Picasso orange on the white board. “You know when you peel an orange . . . ” She stopped me in mid-sentence. “I really don’t know what an orange’s inside looks like,” she sincerely confessed. At first I thought this was a joke of some sort, so I played along. “Come on, you know that orange-colored fruit that comes at the end of the meal at the Chinese restaurant, sometime between the egg fu yung and the fortune cookie.” I realized that she was earnest in her appeal as she stated, “I have never seen the inside of an orange. My dad just buys Sunny Delight. I know they have pictures of oranges on the carton, but I’ve never peeled one.” After further exploring this enigma, I came to understand that she also lacked first-hand knowledge of lemons, limes, grapefruit, and apples—the whole distance along the produce bin at the local supermarket.

      She was eighteen years old and had never eaten a raw orange or, it appeared, any raw fruit! Cranking my jaw up from the classroom carpet like Wylie E. Coyote, it hit me that I was communicating with a very different generation. This is a generation to whom juice is grown in cartons, derived from some mysterious thing that can only be understood as an advertisement, not an experience in nature. For some in the new generation, it appears that oranges and their mysterious juice are fabricated by scientists at the Sunny Delight factory.

      How many people are in the same situation as this young girl? How many adults go months, even years, without seeing raw fruits or fresh vegetables at a meal or having the experience of growing their own? I believe that people being out of touch with growing their own herbs and produce is a key cause of poor health—physical and spiritual. We are losing our contact with the natural world and the spirit of the plant. If you do not connect with the spirit of something, it becomes very difficult, if not impossible, to be in love with it. In not revering the spirit behind the plant, appreciating all its inexplicably beautiful powers, we lose out on the full benefit of the leaf, fruit, and root. The source of the plant’s power is the same source for our healing and wellness, and we appear to be losing sight of both in our age of rampant technophilia.

      Conscious eating—being fully present with food and the sensation of taste—is a crucial concept in many Eastern spiritual disciplines yet a novel concept to many Westerners. In American culture we are usually doing two or three other things while eating. I remember years ago eating in a lunch room sitting across from a Chinese woman who had lived in 17 countries on account of her husband’s career. As she looked around the table at all of us doing some combination of eating, reading, watching TV, debating, and talking on a phone, she commented, “Americans are the only people I have ever seen who do so many other things than eat while they are eating.” Yes, we love our multi-tasking capabilities, even if it means we go unaware of what we eat or how much of it really satisfies us.

      Perhaps we really are missing the boat in this regard. Our American palate seems to be so desensitized to the subtleties of taste that intensely sweet and glaringly salty are the only two notes that our gustatory symphony can play and register as good. This taste-blindness, as I call it, severely limits our nutritional choices and our natural enjoyment of health-providing foods. We limit our vocabulary by learning only a few letters in the alphabet and then become perplexed by our health illiteracy.

      If I received a two-dollar bill for every time someone asked me what vitamin or supplement they should take to be healthy, as though it were like taking some magic pill, my net worth might rival that of Bill Gates. People don’t ask what foods they should be eating to fit them or how they could be preparing their meals to get optimal nutrition; neither do they inquire about exercise practices or ways to incorporate better breathing into their daily routines to better oxygenate their blood and brain. How about asking “Can I grow my own produce even if I am an apartment dweller?” There are ways to do it, yes. If you want a great choice in fresh produce, grow your own.

      We need to redirect our efforts away from the thrill-of-the-pill mentality and get back to the basics of what really works. Some in the critical mass may dissent: “But pills are so quick, easy, and convenient.” Pills do have their place. Sometimes pharmaceutical interventions are lifesavers, and when you are facing an emergency, they can be brilliant. The wise advice is not to neglect the day-to-day basics only to wake up when it is danger-zone time. You can do better and create better health through common-sense recommendations. Why set yourself up for an emergency?

      Did you know that the foundation of all vitamin research comes from research of vitamins in foods? How many people who take vitamin supplements think that vitamins give them energy? Guess what? Vitamins do not give you energy—nutrients (carbohydrates, proteins, fats) do, as well as water and breathing. I will amend that list: connecting to Spirit also energizes you. Do the research yourself, and you will find that nothing surpasses the efficacy of the Big Three: (1) a good quality diet that fits your specific needs, (2) regular sensible exercise, and (3) some means for consistently connecting to Spirit.

       Making the Commitment

      So where does a person start? First, a variety of foods is needed. Easy enough, right? Some people interpret this statement in the following way: “Good news! Now I get to buy salt-and-vinegar potato chips, as well as barbeque, mesquite with ruffles, ketchup flavored, and nachos with cheese. This is variety, eh?” This is how the ego works, always trying to hedge the system in our favor. What is meant by a variety of foods and good nutrition is this:

      a) Eat locally grown produce, as much variety as you can find or grow yourself.

      b) Don’t become a victim of habit and just eat the same five convenience foods each week (sound familiar?); your body needs a variety of quality nutrients. Stretch your comfort zone and try out new foods. This also means getting familiar with a wider array of tastes. I am amazed—no, shocked—when I see the diet journals that the classes complete (the ones who complete