Sunday evening I started a forty-hour fast that I broke today. Yesterday, Monday, I weighed myself. It wasn’t pretty. I was up 1.6 pounds for the week, a total gain of 2.6 pounds from my lowest point two weeks ago. But then I weighed again today, Tuesday, just before I ended my fast. Y’all, in twenty-four hours I lost 4.2 pounds! This means I’ve lost a total of 11.6 pounds in the last six weeks and am currently at my lowest weight since–I don’t know–over a year ago. (Insert my elastic pants breathing a collective sigh of relief here.) I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. I’m five pounds away from skinny-bitch size and ten pounds away from twink size. That being said, if I lose any more body fat, I’m going to have to invest in some flannel underwear for the winter.

This is the essence of balance–skinny bitches and twinks may thrive in the sun, but they shiver in the snow.

Getting back to my forty-hour fast, it was fine. Sure, I got hungry, but never more than I get on a regular basis. The hunger just lasted longer. And whereas I probably went a smidge overboard at breakfast this afternoon (I ate at 12:30), my body handled it well. Sort of. You know that noise an old car makes when you’re trying to start it for the first time in a year–chugga, chugga, splat, hiss, roar? That’s what my stomach sounded like fifteen minutes after breakfast. But that was it. This afternoon I had a light snack (nuts and an apple) and this evening I had a bowl of chicken fried rice and an egg roll, no problem.

After breakfast I exercised at home (part of my routine is pictured above) and listened to a lecture by Alan Watts about the difference between work and play. Watts says it’s mostly a mindset, that he’s seen shoe shiners and bus drivers having an absolute ball by essentially turning their work into a dance. This analogy, of course, made sense to me (because I’m a dancer), the idea that there’s a way to move through any job or task with rhythm and energy. I’ve been trying to do this all day. While doing handyman work, I danced with my tools. While folding laundry, I danced with my pants and socks. Now I’m dancing with my keyboard. Mary Poppins said, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun and–snap!–the job’s a game.” Same idea.

I really like this notion of treating whatever you’re doing as a dance, of turning your work into a game. This evening I installed a grab bar in my parents’ shower, and it really was a hoot. For one thing, it was like a mystery–Where can I find a stud (but seriously, where?), Is this gong to work out? In this sense, my working in my parents’ shower was a mini version of my entire life, me wondering what’s going to happen next, if everything is going to come together. And whereas I can’t speak for the future, so far everything HAS come together–including tonight’s shower project–so I’m betting whatever’s left will too.

Watts says there are four fundamental philosophical questions–Who started it?, Are we gonna make it?, Where are we gonna put it?, and Who’s gonna clean up? These questions, he says, beg a fifth question–Is it serious? Well, if you’re familiar with Watts’s work, you’ll know he’d answer no, whatever it is isn’t serious. It won’t matter in a hundred years. What’s more, life is a dance, life is a game. This viewpoint makes the biggest difference. Normally when I diet and exercise I put all this pressure on myself. Like I’m going to hell if I don’t succeed in lowering my cholesterol. But this time around I’ve been more lighthearted about it, like, I’m just going to play around with this and see what happens. You can do this with anything–your finances, your relationships, your job. Don’t make changes because you HAVE TO, because you MUST, but rather because you can, because you WANT to, because it’s fun.