Magic.
For me, you know it when you see it…or perhaps, when you don’t see it. It’s wonder, it’s the unknowing, and being in the presence of what can only be described as mysterious supernatural forces. Sometimes, it’s a miracle.
At ten years old, I witnessed David Copperfield on prime-time TV wave his hands through the air while charismatically communicating with his nationwide audience how he was preparing to make the Statue of Liberty disappear. For me, this was about as big as it got. Let’s stay up late, probably devour a bucket of popcorn, and be amazed. There were only about 25 people on the island to witness the feat in person but millions were at home, captivated on the edge of their seats. I miss the 80’s. It was so easy to be immersed in something. My attention span these days is rivaled by a well sized gnat.
The event probably birthed more would-be magicians and sultans of sleight of hand than probably any other, myself included. I even had the magic wand that fell to pieces when given to an unknowing volunteer as well as the foam balls with 3 cups. I could also hide a handkerchief in my hand with the best of them. During this time, I was on the lookout for my beautiful female assistant but somehow I never quite had that trick up my sleeve until much later. As with many Merlin wannabees, my career never quite took off and within a few years my love of magic morphed into something a little more… exciting?
Trading In A Magic Wand For A Martin D-35
Some of you may not know this, but I was once, in a distant age, a songwriter and musician and it led me on some fun adventures. One of those was moving to Nashville, TN, Music City. the land of country, western & folk fame. Late nights were the standard and even later mornings rolling out of bed by 1 or 2 o'clock. Not a lot of magic there, but I played open mic nights all over town, ate just about anything that was within arms reach and worked temp jobs for 2 years.
It was a fun time in my life, and with little responsibility I was able to out-exercise the processed food eating beast within me for quite a while. But as I packed up the truck with the remnants of my southern life headed back to New York I remember getting on the road and reflecting on what I would miss the most. I have moved many times and there is always a subtle fusion between excitement for the life to come and melancholy at what you are leaving behind.
For those who have spent some time, there is something tangibly sweet about some areas of the south. People are so damn…nice. New York?... not so much. This was, and still is a Nashville speciality. You can be sitting on a park bench watching the clouds go by and all of a sudden you strike up a conversation with someone you have never met, may probably never see again, but end up having a delightful time. And the best part?... You are not trying to get out of the conversation the entire time and looking at your watch. It’s just easy down there…dare I say friendly.
Who Are You?
One day I was having one of those discussions with the nicest lady I may have ever met and it got a little more personal, you might say a bit serious. We started playing the game, who are you? Not like what you do or what you like but as in, what word defines who you are or how do you truly see yourself?
When she asked me I blurted out, instinctively and out of absolutely nowhere, “I am a searcher”. Wait. Where did that come from? Searching for what? A calling? A significant other?
After some pondering it is relatively simple to see. I have been searching for answers. Answers to the big questions, the small ones and the inbetweeners. You know, the meaning of life? What happens when we die? Or what's the best beer to pair with 90210, drinking alone, on a Wednesday night? (For a while, it was Ice House for some reason. Now Defunct. Bummer, I liked the penguin). But 90210? Seriously? Yes. Judge me all you want. I loved the 90’s too.
The Searcher
Here’s the thing about being a searcher - you are constantly searching…but not necessarily finding anything or at least it may not feel that way in the moment, until it does. I spent those 30 years looking for answers to a few important questions in particular and they were also the ones that eluded me the most: Why am I a slave to food? What is the right diet? What is the right amount of alcohol to drink? Do I drink too much? Can I actually go a day without craving…something? Anything?
These questions all held a place in my life and were important but they were not at the core of my quest, they were not the driving force that led me to read a hundred books on the subject. It was not even happiness I was after. The primary two questions I had been asking myself all this time were simply, “Why don’t I feel good?” and “Why am I always, and I mean every second from waking up to going to sleep, why I am I so damn hungry.”
Over and over and over…Again and again. Exhausting. And I was only 26. That is sad.
Coming Into Focus
After getting back to New York I dated a girl a few years later and I remember when I was dropping her off one afternoon she asked if I wanted to go out that night. I said no. I was kind of tired. “You’re always tired.” she said.
Huh. Always tired. I paused and it hung in the air. Always tired at 27. You know, she was right. I was. I was always tired. I never felt “good”. I had not always realized it but I was constantly fighting an uphill battle. Fighting to wake up, fighting to get my feet on the floor, …fighting to achieve any goal no matter how minimal. How can I be the person I want to be if I am always feeling like crap and perennially tired all of the time? Sadly, I could not.
That moment has echoed back to me over the years. Such an insignificant conversation, on an otherwise meaningless summer afternoon, that in some way has turned out to frame my life. Always. Damn. Tired. And then I sprinkle in Always. Damn. Hungry.
It has taken years to understand this. I have never actually felt really good as an adult. Ever. There may have been moments here and there, for sure - of feeling “acceptable” but I never actually had that feeling of getting out of bed and thinking “Holy crap, I feel ready to go. I am so excited to be alive. I feel fantastic. My body feels fantastic, my mind is clear, pristine…I can take on the world”. It is so easy to blame this on getting older but does it have to be that way? There was a large part of me that figured I would never find what I was looking for. Until now.
Solving The Puzzle
Sometimes in life we have those moments don’t we where we can almost hear and subsequently feel the “click” of things falling into place? Like the final puzzle piece that was hiding under the table or when the perfect iron bolt finds its way into your hand in an otherwise disorganized toolbox. Think Tom Hanks in the middle of the night in Sleepless In Seattle on the phone with Dr. Marcia Fieldstone. As she pokes and prods him for information he finally relents and describes all the wonderful qualities of his departed wife.
“It was a million tiny little things” he said “that just meant we were supposed to be together…it was like coming home, only to no home I have ever known…it was taking her hand to help her out of a car, …and… I knew it.”
“It was like… magic”.
This magic is a little bit different isn't it? It’s not some guy with a black hat waving a wand and making a bunny disappear, it is something much more powerful. I can say, with all seriousness, that over the past week I have felt this magic in my life.
Living With The Master
For 40 years I have woken up and been driven to eat, driven to crave, and driven to simply be a slave to a processed food Master. I remember my first bagel at a young age and can still taste it. It lit me up from the inside out as if I was given a vodka soda. It would beckon to me every day thereafter. I had lost control of one of the most precious parts of being alive, my mind.
Of course, I could fight the choices, and I did many times. There have been fierce battles that have left the Master unscathed but left my ego bruised and my self confidence lying on the floor clinging to life, and hopeless. For so long I fought and failed. The processed food cravings would always build into monstrous voices and pull at me until my will was broken. “Ok,” I would say, bowing my head, “I am your bitch. Have at it.”
No More.
I woke up a few days ago and the sun was shining bright for the first time in what seemed like weeks. The rain has been fierce here this summer, to the point that the grass never once browned which is very rare. As I fixed myself a coffee and looked out our large living room window, I could see the autumn leaves turning colors and gently falling from the trees. It was so quiet. Nature is its own form of magic. It was beautiful.
A moment later, I realized that something was missing. I had been sitting here, relaxed, enjoying the morning and not once did a single thought of food cross my mind. No cravings, no images, no desires, nothing. I was, as my kids say, “in space”: a beautiful zen-like feeling of emptiness - staring into the void.
I did not know it at that moment but for the past 75 days there has been someone by my side…someone holding me up when I fell or steadying me when I felt discouraged. He has been whispering to me the whole time to keep going, keep fighting, keep falling and getting back up again, and pretty soon “I will have a gift for you.”
That morning he reached his hand out to me and placed something in mine. “This is for you,” he said. “It has always been here, but you just weren’t ready yet”. Opening my hand, I found a small key. “What is this for?” I asked. He pointed to my legs.
The Master had kept me in shackles for so long that I did not even realize they were still there. My ankles had calloused, scabbed. I could not even feel the rusty iron on them anymore. I reached my hand down and slid the key into the lock. It turned slowly and then snap, it opened. I moved my ankles in circles stretching them for the first time in ages. As I stood up I threw the shackles with all of my strength far against the wall, where they can stay for eternity. I walked outside.
Freedom.
After being a slave so long, freedom from cravings and to some degree, food obsession, is a strange feeling. It is so new to me but I can say, without reservation, that a part of my mind has been opened, deconstructed, cleansed and rebuilt from the ground up. I am barely thinking about food anymore. I see processed crap for what it truly is now - one of the primary causes of nearly all chronic disease and nothing more. It is no longer a pleasure lost, but instead, with abstaining, it is health gained with the added benefit of abundant energy.
This is not the only answer I have sought and there will surely be many new struggles to come, new challenges to conquer but for now, I am going to rest in this feeling. The carnivore diet, as I had hoped, has brought something to me that nothing else could in the past 40 years: peace.
Is it possible this is only a dream and I will soon wake back up to the processed food nightmare I have lived for so long? Perhaps, but that does not seem to be the case right now. I want to believe that this change is permanent and another step along my path towards lasting health.
Eat nutrient dense meat, eggs, & full-fat dairy until you are totally satiated every time. No more dieting. This is the carnivore diet. No more hunger. No more torture. No more Master. There may be others, but this one is finally dead.
It’s like…Magic.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for joining me here. I truly appreciate it. If you have enjoyed this post or found some value in it, I would humbly ask that you consider sharing it in any way that you are comfortable with. My best to you and yours for optimal health.
With Sincere Appreciation,
T. Kyle Tucker
I am still amazed by the quality of your writing, Kyle. As I continue to read your blog (2) so far I am learning much about you that I never knew. But it gives me pause to consider seriously the subtle way processed foods has penetrated American life over the past fifty years. I grew up in a time when processed foods was not an issue but modernity has changed that with the advances of sugar now be the primary ingredient of preserved/packaged foods. It use to only be salt and I was taught to watch my salt intake by my mother. But now I find myself over the past many years looking at the sugar content of everyth…