Those of you who know me relatively well, know that when I say I'm going to start a new lifestyle (kinky chic lifestyle for instance), I tend to dive in head first and border on obsessive when it comes to practicing and learning about my new lifestyle. And this focus on purifying and cleansing my life has led me to many things including burning sage, using organic candles, shea butter soap, loc'ing my hair, and most recently: oil pulling!
Oil pulling, or oil swishing is an ancient Ayurvedic [meaning: related to the knowledge of life; 5,000 years old] technique, touted by yogis as a natural way to strengthen the immune system by killing toxic yeast that makes its way from your stomach to mouth while you sleep. The science seems to stand sound: our mouths can determine non-oral health issues and unsurprisingly, dentists can diagnose acid reflux, diabetes and heart disease just by symptoms seen during normal check-ups. I was convinced and headed straight for my local specialty grocery store to invest in a jar of virgin unrefined coconut oil. You don’t have to use coconut, but I prefer it in lieu of sunflower and sesame because of its natural antifungal properties (and honestly, it tastes like a candy bar). Be warned: coconut oil comes semi-hardened so you must melt it in your mouth.
I felt results in a matter of days. My sinuses drained as I swished, I felt energetic and alert, and my gums and teeth felt much cleaner than with my normal brushing routine. (I should also mention here that you must scrape your tongue after you spit out the oil, or else you’re just swallowing oil residue with toxins in it). I’ve been doing this for a year and I’m ecstatic to say that I haven’t had one canker sore, nor gotten the flu or cold, even with the scare this season. The skin around my temples cleared up which, according to face mapping is a sure sign that there is something amiss in your stomach. Plus, I swear by it as a hangover cure: It’s a much healthier option than my usual greasy breakfast burrito. By all means, do your own research before you start oil pulling, but I can fully attest to how amazing the benefits have been for my annoyingly delicate constitution. Anyone out there willing to give this a try?
I'm sitting here trying not to gag on a mouth completely full of coconut oil diluted with saliva.Apparently this is good for me.Ayurvedic practitioners calls this oil pulling. It's the big, new, ancient thing -- thousands of years old, and suddenly super popular again, thanks to digital trend-setters like Pinterest and Facebook.Hold on. Deep breath. Not. Going. To. Heave. I can do this.Oil pulling has been all over my Facebook wall for weeks now: promises of everything from whiter teeth to help with allergies to relief of chronic pain. I read somewhere it could treat cancer and AIDS. I was in open-minded awe -- until I read claims that it could improve digestive issues.Because it's currently causing me new ones.In fact, if you have a sensitive stomach, now is where I tell you to run. Run far away from the rest of this harrowing tale. Chances are, you'd never try oil pulling to begin with, anyway.Maybe I need to last the full length of time, rise mind over nausea, and gargle this oil for the recommended 20 minutes.
When my husband said he'd be working late tonight, I realized I had my window; if he ever caught me doing something like this, I'd never be kissed again. Even more, I'd never stand a chance of succeeding in his presence.You see, my husband and I both have overactive gag reflexes, to the degree that it's a contributing factor why we never plan on having more children. You try changing a molten diaper while simultaneously trapped in an uncontrollable duet of dry-heaving "huuuu-hhhs," each one setting of the next like diaphragm Dominoes. Just the memory is pushing me closer to sharing my coconut spit with the keyboard.Speaking of, the longer you keep this oil in your mouth, the more liquid your mouth produces, and the harder it is to keep it in. My cheeks are inflated like a squirrel. Every minute is worse than the last.Must. Distract. Self.I'm committed. I've made it this long: 11 minutes. Eleven long, slobbery minutes. I'm not giving up now.