Salt, Sole & Stress

For some, stress sounds like death and taxes. One can’t escape it. Some day, sooner or later, it comes, back. Stress is a haunting spectre of modern life, they say. Perhaps it was a common day occurrence in archaic times, because people (especially women) have always worried and anguished and tensed. Consider, for a moment, the dramatic stress on Penelope’s mind, in Homeric times. Or contemplate the tragedy of Violetta – La traviata (the fallen woman) which, say the artists, remains the paradigm of human history. Stress is a constant, just not the only one.

Technology, the modern magic, populates our lives with little idols: the smart phone; the notebook; the tiny Google TV box behind the flat screen (“Mom! What’s that big box behind the TV?” – said a young man staring at a vintage boob tube); the kitchen helping robots, coolers and freezers; the dildo (that’s already ancient); and so many more gadgets and widgets. Without a doubt, our lives got changed in many ways for the better. But, you know, every good thing contains a bad spot (the reverse is true as well). Our problem with technology happens to be the utter sophistication of stress.

Penelope or Violetta had to deal with common stress, also known by the three-letter word: “men.” Not to belittle their sufferings, modern daughters of Eve, while handling men (here I can’t complain, mine works lovingly), must endure an abundance of buttons (each with some kind of esoteric logic behind) — let not mention the “OMG, my laptop changes faces and goes bonkers” just because I forget (understandably) to plug it in…

Salt, mineral salt harvested from sea shores or Himalayan slopes, is such a wonderful accessory to a woman’s struggle with stress. Doctors had fixed draconian limits on sodium intake. These made lots of sense for the consumers of the industrial era when “the factory” used to be the source of “everything.”

Today we know (or ought to) that the factory is the source of every bad thing. The Germans coined the thing with a precise term: “ersatz” — an imitation, artificial, fake, counterfeit product. During the war, the same Germans collected household garbage in special containers, freighted it to the factory that returned milk and margarine back on the table of the poor citizen. Wars have the nasty habit (among many others) of creating food out of crap (problem is with industries that find it profitable after wars have long ended).

Table salt, like any refined powder, contains an anti-caking agent which is poisonous to humans. Doctors were right when fixing consumption limits for table salt, but wrong when equating this ersatz with natural salt.

One of the mineral richest salts is pink Himalayan salt. Every room in my house has a corner lit by a salt lamp. The negative ions generated by these raw little things compensate the positive ions generated by all of our electronic devices. We need negative ions.

Where I sleep and cuddle with hubby, we have a salt lamp on the window sill and another one under the bed. Makes me feel stereo charged with negative ions, or at least makes me feel safe from the three notebooks, one TV-set, one Google box, one satellite receiver, various routers, switches and phones. Writing this, I consider adding at least a third salt lamp to the clutter. Yes, I know, we need a bedroom (working on that).

On my kitchen table there are two mincers filled with pink Himalayan salt. We eat it because we don’t believe in the mainstream salt myth, and we’re not alone: demystifying the salt myth.

What matters is drinking a proportional quantity of filtered water to wash the excess out.

Very well, all the above is old news. I’ve blogged about stress and salt and chemical ersatz for eons — hubby told me that computers are like dogs: a year looks like seven. The novelty here is SOLE!

Our aunt from AlabamaΒ (not in the video; I’ve selected this video from quite a populous Youtube stream — about making and consuming sole for your wellbeing — because I liked it) told us about sole, and we listened, and we documented ourselves, and we made it, and we drink it. Watch the video above and see how simple it is. Ah, almost forgot: do not touch the sole with any metal: no metal spoon, no metal lid, no metal!

I know that you know how I deal with stress, other than drinking crystal salts, but, just in case, you may (anytime) check the evidence. Trust but verify: | | |

- Is that me?! - Nice shoes!

– Is that me?! – Nice shoes!

2 thoughts on “Salt, Sole & Stress

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