Does Eating 10 Bags of Caramel Corn Count as Holistic Medicine?

A Radical Vacation Release

Allow me to introduce you to the miracle of Hawaiian caramel corn: I ate a bag every day in Hawaii and lost ten pounds.

And no, I didn’t starve myself. I didn’t exercise more than normal. I’m not one of those magical people who can eat like sin and never gain weight, because when I got home and carried on eating caramel corn every day (and LESS than before) I paid the iron price.

It’s Not Just Hawaii

It took me months to unravel this mystery.

Along the way, I talked to all my friends and family who would listen, and they all said the same thing: It’s Hawaii!

Let’s put aside for now the obvious fact that Hawaii is a magical place where magic happens. I want to look at the body and the inner self. I was experimenting with the idea that I had discarded some deep, negative beliefs about…well, everything.

I was in a state of giving no fucks. Yet this was not a state of angry giving no fucks, but rather a true releasing of all fucks that do not serve my desire to have a completely relaxing, playful, and indulgent vacation.

And what struck me was how easy and automatic it was: I landed in Hawaii and gave up the fucks.

And without any conscious effort on my part, my body began to change.

In retrospect, it seems like a corollary result. I did not set out to do it. But I’m pretty sure that everything that happened to me, body-wise, was on a secret list in my head titled If My Body Were Perfect This Is What That Would Look Like.

I lost weight. My skin glowed. My hair got shiny. My cellulite vanished. The most shocking thing of all was that my neck injury disappeared entirely. That one was exacerbated by phone usage and poor posture, both of which I indulged in copiously in Hawaii.

People had a lot of theories: I was getting more sleep. More vitamin D. I was relaxed. I was happy.

I made a checklist, trying to be sciency, because in fact I am tracking a lot of stats through my Apple Watch and iPhone: In almost every category, I was worse off, according to science. I slept less. I ate more, and made poorer food choices. I got less exercise and spent more “bad” time on my phone. I was not entirely consistent with vitamin D tracking but I obviously got more than normal—although not by much. (I spend a lot of time in the sun at home, too.)

What is that??

I want to say I was happier there. But I was also in a tiny two-room cottage with my elderly parents, who were having a rough time. It wasn’t some external happiness that changed things, the shift was internal—and I could feel it.

But here’s what DID happen: I experienced a sense of timelessness every day, at least once a day. Not only did I lose track of time, I often forgot my sense of my age and historical period. I recognize this as a state of flow.

For me, this meant getting completely and utterly absorbed in something.

And that something did not have to perform any functions. It didn’t have to earn a paycheck or impress someone. It just had to interest me, and that is all.

I read a book about Sacred Geometry.

I took photographs of dragonflies.

I daydreamed.

I went to marine base and let myself utterly love the vibe.

I watched the sunsets.

When people called my name, I pretended not to hear them.

I had fantasies of nuclear annihilation or global tsunamis just to freak myself out for a thrill, like a CHILD.

I read Hyperion and marveled at the utter strangeness of it.

I ate ice cream twice a day.

I made lists of things I thought I should do and then put a check-mark beside each item I was too lazy to accomplish, because I had accomplished full laziness.

The Spirit of the Thing

From a holistic medical perspective, this is an ideal state: Happy, healthy, thriving.

Nobody told me how to do it. Nobody prescribed anything. This experience was pure qi, or what traditional European doctors called spiritus.

Spiritus works on you through resonance—with everything. Food, people, nature, everything you come into contact with has spirit in it, and resonates (or not) with your own spirit.

Spiritus is also the most powerful element of medicine. It is so powerful that it can override any good advice that a holistic medical practitioner would give.

When I look at my list now, I think it’s totally obvious why my vibration went through the roof—because I believed that it was supposed to be that way. That no one could possibly hate me for having a good vacation. It didn’t diminish my value as a human being. It didn’t disrupt my identity.

I was in a state of radical allowing. That always puts you in a state of resonance.

That state did not follow me home. Because at home, I adhere to society, which says I must demonstrate my value by performing certain functions.

And poof—Cinderella limps back to the mainland with a broken pumpkin and a stack of new books. She also discovers that the caramel corn that cost $3.99 at the marine base Shoppette can only be found mainland on Amazon for 20 bucks a bag. (!)

But here’s the thing: At home, I am often in a state of flow. I am in flow for a living. It’s not like my life is some kind of frazzled, overwrought state. I enjoy it very much.

However, there is also a lot of stuff about it that I don’t enjoy. So going on vacation allows me to dump all the stuff I don’t enjoy and focus more on the stuff I do.

And in doing that, I accessed a consistent and much more powerful state of flow than the one I’m typically in when I’m at home, working.