Detox Soup- Shhhh Don't Tell.
I'm not perfect. Goddess knows. Especially during the long pale days of Winter. And even early Spring. When I am a slug. Motivation is tricky to summon. I loll on the couch with my iPad and expend as few calories as possible, doing nothing more than watching House Hunters International. I scoop guacamole with homemade pecan crackers and conjure recipes for detox green soup as I follow tall young Cincinnatians ducking into tiny Italian kitchens the size of my corner sofa, daunted by the lack of plumbing but in love with the sun baked view of a tangled vineyard through open shutters. I mute the unintentionally absurd commercial for Cialis, trying to imagine why any woman over the age of fifty would even want to deal with 24-hour tumescence before I realize I have eaten a giant avocado.
All by myself.
I don't beat myself up. I know the bottom line. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. I am not naive. Perfection is unattainable. No matter what the ad men tell you. And it's not perfection I seek. Though, in full transparency, I used to nurture an inclination toward seeking perfection in my long ago first marriage, but the wrecking ball named irony hit too hard to ignore. Turns out my first husband preferred someone decidedly not perfect. Someone sporting iridescent teal eye shadow and fond of dancing drunk with married men at Chamber of Commerce Christmas parties. That taught me a thing or two. Or three.
The thing about perfection is that no one cares. And neither does your soul. In fact, your soul loves to throw a monkey headlong into your perfect plan.
You know the monkey I'm talking about. The monkey who misses deadlines and loses car keys and eats an entire bowl of guacamole in one sitting (or laying down, as the case may be). So much for resolutions and diet strategies. Monkey WIN!
But just in case you're serious about cleansing those fat little liver cells and whittling away your holiday pie roll, I did make a detox soup. And yes, it was green. And cruciferously abundant in vegan veggie wonderfulness.
It made us feel happy.
And well fed.
But not perfect.
Because perfection, Darling, is not only unattainable, it's boring.
Just ask any monkey.