Day II of the Cleanse: All Saint's Day and Two Differing Views of the Beatific Vision of Heaven

At 6 am it's dark when I stumble down the stairs, zombie-like. Turning on the lights reveals two plastic pumpkins filled with the spoils of last night's Halloween romp through Mt. Tabor neighborhood. My children fared well from our neighbors' generosity on All Hallow's Eve. The urge to peek in and inventory their candy is irresistible, the temptation to steal a piece easier to tamp down, though I'm sure a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup would taste awfully good with coffee. Sinfully good.

But on Day 2 of the Cleansing Diet, and All Saints' Day, when the Western faithful celebrate those that have made it to heaven and see the light (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Saints) there'll be no pilfering of Halloween candy, no coffee. That's the trick. The treat is a spike of agave syrup in a cup of Yerba Mate. For a moment I feel like Charlie Brown announcing, as he looks into his bag, 'I got a rock.' I am definitely not in Heaven.

I don't do restraint well, particularly when it comes to morning coffee. This is one of the parts of the diet I'm the most afraid of, not only for absence of the morning caffeine boost, but the loss of the ritual of making the coffee, of awakening through its smell. Hell, I can live without soy products for a month; that's easy. No coffee, and wait, no dairy. That makes for a complicated morning. With the work week beginning, no less.

So breakfast this morning is a smoothie, with rice milk, more agave, protein powder, a pear, blueberries, and greens. Two cups full. The end result resembles brown cement before it cures. But it's drinkable. Not bad, really. "Not bad, really" will later becomes the week's mantra for 'it tastes better than you'd think."

Our kids think we are crazy, embarking on this martyrdom. This diet is clearly ONE OF THOSE THINGS ADULTS DO that make no sense. Why would you not want to eat Halloween candy? Rice milk over cow's milk? No oranges? Don't you always tell us we need Vitamin C? I have no answer for that. I love citrus fruit, miss it already. The juicer sits in the corner, abandoned.

As I mix up a lunchtime salad with smoked salmon and balsamic vinegar dressing, I recall that today is All Saint's Day. In Lithuania, where I lived for two years, All Saints', known as Velines was a significant holiday (http://www.ehow.com/how_2064995_celebrate-all-saints-day-lithuania.html). Lithuanians--along with other Balts, Poles, and those in several other Eastern European countries--commemorate Velines/All Saints' by remembering their ancestors and preparing for a visit from their departed family members and relatives. It's customary for people to visit and tend the graves of loved ones at darkfall. Then they feast.

Nearly 20 years ago I was invited to a celebration of Velines. It was somber, full of reflection. I recall walking with friends to visit their family plot, and being given a candle to carry. I will never forget the sight of lines of candles -- pearls of light, really -- appearing by the hundreds and converging on the cemetery, their glows flickering in the dark as if the spirits were indeed rejoining the living that night. It was hauntingly beautiful. The feast we had afterwards was sumptuous, and there was rye bread to celebrate the harvest, and portions left at the table should the dead want to join the feast.

I head for work, thinking that for today, for the next 28 days, the oyster crackers in the pantry I love to snack on, the goat cheese in the fridge, the loaf of whole wheat bread, the honey, everything the kids don't end up eating, could be a meal for the spirits of the departed. I don't need them, and I'm happy to be alive.

Even if my smoothies turn out brown. Even I can't eat bacon right now.