I was on a high school summer political communications program in Washington, D.C. That night, Jill, a fellow Jersey girl, was offering up the punch line of yet another tale of her boyfriend back home, Terry, whom none of us had ever met, but was quite the character.

Terry was not just a Jersey guy, but a permanent resident of the Jersey Shore (if I may use euphemisms) and presumably possessed a signature style of speaking and behavior that lent itself to fodder for good storytelling.  

“And then Terry says,” my friend set it up, “That guy is like a sore festering on the back side of my ass!”

Wow. What a visual, I thought at the time. Fester: It’s a verb, I thought, with the power of an adjective.

And now something is festering inside me. It’s not just annoying or irritating me, mind you; it’s causing me lingering worry and emotional pain.  And like a festering sore on the back side of my ass, I can’t ignore this worry because it doesn’t look like it’s going away.

My worry has to do with anti-Semitism.

What does anti-Semitism have to do with wellness, you ask?

I’d have likely asked the same question a few months ago. But recently I’ve discovered there seems to be a connection between the two. And I fear I risk something by sharing my concern with you; by bringing politics into a non-political blog. I fear I risk alientating readers or worse, attracting unwanted ugly attention to this blog. But, I realize I risk a lot more by keeping quiet.

While the connection between the “wellness community” and anti-Semitism is under the radar, the overlap between social progressivism and left-wing politics is not. For instance, it’s understood that an environmental activist is often a liberal voter, right? If I were a betting girl (and I am), I would place a wad of cash on the chance that the majority of card-paying members of GreenPeace don’t vote Republican.

In many ways, I’ve ideologically aligned myself with those liberal voters because they often subscribe to expectations for society I also support, such as a woman’s right to choose, egalitarianism in the workplace, and, most important, the freedom to question and protest government intention and policy.

However, I learned somewhere along the way (read “college”) that left-wingers are often also anti-Israel: Something I am not. I am pro-Israel. So much so that I now live here.

Particularly in recent years, as Israel has become a main target for left-wing activists, I’ve become more and more conflicted about my alignment. And, while I will agree that Israel is certainly a piece of the human rights puzzle, I find it frustrating that activists often have a singular focus on Israel. This singular focus is peculiar and suspect to me and has always smelled a little bit like anti-Semitism, and/or Jewish self-hatred. When I read their posts on my left-wing friends’ Facebook wall I want to respond (but don’t): “But what about Syria?!? Or Libya, or Cuba, or Iran or other non-democratic governments in the U.S. State Department’s top ten most violators of human rights? Can we also talk about them? Are you also boycotting them? Are you crying for their abused women, brutally treated gays, and starving children?”

As a Jew with an interest in history, I’ve learned that left-wing thinking and anti-Semitism are no strangers to each other. (Look up Marxist theory. Or spend some time on the campus of a Liberal Arts college.) And I’ve learned to…ignore it. It’s just not my thang.

As an American Jewish Wellness Bitch who recently became an Israeli Jewish Wellness Bitch, however, I’m increasingly disturbed by the amount of anti-Israel, and even anti-Semitic messaging I find running through many wellness-related blogs and forums I visit; ones that focus on the types of ”alternative lifestyle” topics I’m interested in. 

What do I mean by alternative lifestyle topics?

Well, according to Wikipedia, something may be labeled alternative if it’s considered “outside the cultural norm,” but examples listed include lifestyle choices that I think many of us might consider normal, such as vegetarianism, meditation, herbal medicine, homebirth and hypnosis, to name a few.

It turns out, there are bloggers out there writing about topics I’m interested in (such as climate change and human consciousness) who are also entertaining submissions and comments from people who blame the world’s troubles on a “Zionist plot” or the Jewish-influenced media and banking elite.

Through following eco-friendly bloggers on Facebook and Twitter, I have discovered well-known and well-followed bloggers who position themselves as health-conscious and as concerned for the welfare of humanity; who speak and write like intellectuals, not like members of the lunatic fringe; and who, in one figurative breath preach meditation and in the other, rant about the “Rothschilds” (a reference to a Jewish banking conspiracy) and accuse Jews and Zionists of being part of a “New World Order” involved in secret governmental affairs. 

And just like other grassroots activists taking advantage of social networking, these individuals are also creating You Tube videos; they’re publishing e-books; they have radio shows and RSS feeds; all while selling nutritional supplements and invoking mantras.

It frightens me that an individual who may be searching for news and information  about “natural medicine,” or “Monsanto,” or “global warming” will stumble upon the unfiltered alternative news site, Before It’s News, or the alternative news magazine “Signs of the Times,” which admittedly offers relevant wellness-related news you likely won’t get on CNN.com, but also dedicates a significant part of their content to blatant anti-Israel op-eds and conspiracy theories that position Jews as “puppet masters.”

It’s mind boggling to me. How can you possibly promote “well-being” and ”awakening” when you are still so stuck in a cycle of fear?

Is it not hypocritical and counterproductive to foster paranoia and anger against other human beings when you preach well-being? I just don’t get it.

My message today?

1. I am a Jew and an ideological Zionist and I am not part of a global elite. If I controlled the world, there would be a lot more love and compassion and a lot less fear. My children would be growing up in a world that was safe for them. My blog would already be a best-selling book. I’d have much cooler clothes. And there would be more love.

2. There are Jews and Israelis both, hundreds of thousands of us, who are enlightened individuals – vegans, environmentalists, green builders, holistic health coaches, energy workers, midwives, yoga masters, spiritual gurus, organic farmers, writers, thinkers, and teachers. All of us passionate healers and educators, and many of us whom are working both behind the scenes and publicly to foster peace in both this region and the world. Our only plot is love. Our only intention is healing.

3. There is certainly evil in this world, but it’s evenly distributed among all nations and our energy is better spent on healing ourselves than it is on imagining and assigning blame.

If you found this blog because you were searching Zionist Plot or New World Order or Anti-Israel, I invite you to consider the idea that there is a Zionist Jew out there whose only purpose is to be one of many guides on your road to wellness.

I flinched, waiting for it to sting, but it didn’t. I quickly rinsed my eye and felt fine.

Then I thought to myself, “Phew! That would have hurt like a M-ther F-er if that had been Clorox.”

But at least my eyeballs would have been ultra disinfected, right?

I haven’t used a harsh chemical cleaner in about five years. I think in that time, we might have used real bleach once or twice to get at some stubborn mold in our basement. But that’s it. For the most part, I clean with vinegar, baking soda, castile soap,  BonAmi, and a few Ecover products, particularly our dish soap, our floor cleaner, and a multi-purpose spray.

And, guess what?

You won’t believe it.

I promise you are in for a huge surprise.

Ready?

My house is just as clean, if not cleaner, than yours.

Yes, my house, wiped and sprayed with non-toxic, natural or plant-derived substances, is CLEAN.

In fact, I think my house is cleaner now than it’s ever been. Mostly, because now that I know what’s inside all those cleaning products my mom used when I was growing up and I used up until a few years ago (ie. Lysol, Pine Sol, Clorox Disinfecting Wipes, etc.) I think of houses cleaned with those products as DIRTY.

Not the kind of dirty you can see or swipe with your hands across a cabinet, but the kind of dirty the clogs up your lungs when you breathe it in. That makes your asthma worse.

That burns your eyes when it splashes back into them.

Those products no longer “smell clean” to me.

They smell like poison.

I’ve been…reconditioned.

Here’s a good way to know. Do you find yourself saying one or more of the following sayings on a daily base to one or more of your family members?

“When’s the last time you had some protein?”

“What kind of bellyache? Gas? Crampy? Diarrhea?”

“No, you already had a sugary treat today.”

“Yes, turkey is protein.”

“No, avocado is not gluten.”

“Yes, that soup has MSG.”

“Is it organic?”

“Does it have nuts? Sesame? Gluten?”

“Did you read the label before you ate that?!? Did someone read the label?!? Who read the label???!!!”

You, my friend, are among the burdened, and often despised members of the League of Familial Food Dictators.

You are seen as a freak. As a nut. As a domineering and controlling parent. As a difficult and high-maintenance family member. 

Do not fear, my fellow dictators. There will come a time in the not-so-distant future when our family members thank us for our efforts, for our leadership, and for our commitment to their health, well-being, and safety.

One day, our children (and our children’s children) will see and understand that we were only trying to protect them; our spouses will see we were only trying to help them feel energized and content; our parents and siblings will see we only had their best interest in mind.

One day, we will live in a world where our efforts will be seen as appropriate and socially acceptable.

Until then, my friends, take care. While you are an often unacknowledged and misuderstood leader, you are not alone.

We stand together with you.

Sincerely,

The League of Familial Food Dictators

Well, specifically bitchy writer’s block.

It’s not that I’m without wellness-related topics to bitch about; it’s just that I feel so darn happy these past few days that I don’t want to mess it up by making a fuss about how the government screws us over or ranting about the poor choices people make.

I’d prefer to stay here in my little cocoon and let you all figure it out for yourself.

Interestingly enough, though, this week marks the one year anniversary that I started wellness bitchin’. Which would make this a good time for an annual evaluation and performance review, don’t you think?

It’s been exciting watching this community build and grow. And I’ve had the privilege this year to partner with other revolutionaries who are fearlessly trying not only to change the system (which is hard enough), but also to transform the way their friends and family think about health, food, and living (which is much, much more of a challenge, if you ask me.)

Through the Wellness Bitch, I’ve been fortunate to host guest blogs from visionary thinkers and change makers; to interview passionate and bold practitioners; and to engage in dialogue with all of you. It’s been inspiring.

And I don’t want that to end.

So…

What I am thinking is I’d like to hear from you what moves you about The Wellness Bitch. What you’d like to see more of. Who you want contributions from. Why you think this type of forum is necessary (or not).

Help me move past my writer’s block.

I want you to.

Typically the phrase is preceded by “why” or “how to stop,” but sometimes it just stands alone, as if the victim is declaring it as part of a 12-step program:

 ”My name is Clark. And I shit my brains out. ”

I’m truly hopeful that a handful of people who have found their way here have since figured out how to stop shitting their brains out. If not, my recommendations include “give up McDonald’s,” “try an elimination diet,” and “cut down on sugars and fats.” But, surely a long term cure for shitting your brains out usually requires an individualized approach (why do you shit your brains out?), commitment (stop doing the things that make you shit your brains out), and community support (visit TheWellnessBitch.com).

While I’m happy to host the serial poopers of the world, I’d really like to increase my readership of people with stinky farts.

It’s rare that someone discovers The Wellness Bitch by searching for “retched gas” or “hot and juicy farts” or “stink ass.”

I’d like to change that.

If you’re brave enough to google “stinky farts,” you’ve likely stumbled upon the “Facts on Farts,” or SmellyPoop.com. Both offer fairly useful, basic info on why some passed gas smells and some doesn’t.  A cuter version of this info comes in the form of one of my kids favorite books, The Gas We Pass.

My dad, who is genetically responsible for all my stomach woes, bought me the book when I was in college. It was sort of a private joke, and I’ve held it on to it since then, mostly with the intent to read it to my kids when they ask, “Mommy, why do you pootz so much?”

The worst smelling gas I ever had was immediately following my c-sections with my kids. It was so bad I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with myself. My poor babies — they were on the breast like 10 times a day during that time. Can you imagine what they thought of the world? Hanging out with me and my stink ass all day long?

It didn’t take me long to figure out the cause was a big time yeast overgrowth in my gut. I had been indulging in lots of sugar before my births and then had my gut cut open. I had IV antibiotics in the hospital and oral antibiotics in the weeks following — standard procedure post c-section.

No one suggested probiotics to me. Not even my midwife. No one considered that between the surgery and the antibiotics, I might have some big time issues with yeast.  It only finally occured to me when my baby and I both ended up with thrush. Having been on the train wreck that is yeast overgrowth before, I suddenly realized WAKE UP CALL! The retched gas is probably yeast-related. 

In an attempt to cover my bases, though, I wasted two hours in the office of a local gastroenterologist. After he explained to me the stuff I already knew about beans and sausage and cauliflower, I asked him about yeast overgrowth.

He said to me, “Nah…I don’t really believe in that.”

Luckily, I didn’t believe in him.

Once I got the yeast fairly under control, the farts simmered down.

Now, on the contrary, the time during which I had the least amount of gas was soon after that.

I went on an elimination diet while nursing my son who was sensitive to so many foods I could only eat a variety of about 10 without him shitting his brains out or ripping his skin apart from itchy eczema. Missing from my diet was anything processed, sugar, caffeine, gluten, dairy, eggs, soy, citrus, and nuts. 

My belly was finally at ease. No bloating. No gas. And beautiful regular poops.

It didn’t last. Because as thin as I got and as good as I felt only eating 10 foods, I couldn’t keep it up for too long. Maybe someday it will be easier, like when I live in my custom made, mansion sized bubble.

So, what’s the takeaway here, stink ass?

The average doctor will tell you yeast overgrowth is a myth.

The average doctor in 1855 would have told you germs were a myth.

If your gas clears a room, it’s likely yeast or food intolerance or, like me, both.

You can continue living in denial and gagging every time you let one rip, or you can get it under control.

You. The person who spends hours on the computer reading health, food and fitness blogs, but won’t show up in real life?

You. The mom who asks a million questions a day on Urban Mom, but won’t leave her house after dark to show up to an event where those questions might actually be answered?

You. The person who sits at home watching “Iron Chef America,” instead of trying out the “Cooking with Healing Spices” seminar at your local community center?

Where ARE you?

Where ARE you when the expert comes to the local health food store to talk about matters that are relevant to you and your family?

Where ARE you when there is a FREE Reiki Circle?

And, where ARE you when you’re invited to a panel discussion with wellness practitioners hosted at your church or synagogue?

Or a holistic health fair with FREE chair massage?

Or a FREE yoga for charity demonstration?

If all the people with undiagnosed chronic illness…

If all the people who parent children with…

If all the people who spend all their time bitching away on message boards and on Facebook fan pages actually came to REAL-LIFE, in person events, you might actually have one-on-one face time with someone who can answer your questions.

If all the people who complain that preventative wellness is too expensive actually picked up their pocketbooks and carried them to the FREE or low-cost community wellness events, they might have the conversation with someone who will change their life.

A conversation. Free. 

A wellness fair or workshop. $10

Finally meeting the person who has the solution to what ails you? Priceless.

The resources are out there. I know because I’m the person organizing these kinds of events.  Or sponsoring them. Or speaking at them. Or attending them. But I’m in the minority.

Where ARE you?

As someone who tries hard to make those resources available to you in an accessible, non-confrontational way, I have a simple request:

Show up.

Get off your butt. Leave your house. And show up.

Not all the time. But some time.

Show up. Try something new. Ask a question.

Show up. Just once. Show up.

RSVP. Bring a friend. Take a chance.

Show up.

Sometimes that’s all it takes.

You hide me like you used to sneak a ciggy out your window in high school.

You cautiously pull The Wellness Bitch up on your screen at work and then you casually turn your head from side to side to see if anyone is around.

Deep inside you chuckle at my post calling out the mom at the playground, but you’re terribly afraid of ever actually doing it yourself.

I mean, come on. What would people think of you?

As we approach The Holiday Season, I invite you…no I triple dog dare you…to tell your family about The Wellness Bitch.

Choose the perfect time. Right after your mother-in-law lights up the artificially fragranced peppermint from Yankee Candle. Or perhaps after your brother stuffs a Blow Pop in your nephew’s mouth so he can watch The Game in silence.

Tell them about this funny blog called…hee hee…The Wellness Bitch.

Let them know that I sit up here on my high horse (I mean, my desk) and write about all the toxic crap that people are putting in their mouths, on their skin, and using in their homes.

Let them know that the language I use is sometimes “over-the-top” (and make sure to giggle when you say it to let them know that you don’t approve of such profanity).

Let them know that you don’t always agree with how I go about delivering my message (though you secretly approve wholeheartedly), but that you think I have the right intentions.

And, if you’re really daring, you can bring this original handout with you as a prop or as a conversation piece.

Come on, you know you want to. That heated conversation is calling you just the way that Marlboro Light did long ago in the days before you knew it was just as bad for you as a McDonald’s Happy Meal.

Or is it the other way around?

This post by The Wellness Bitch is a Healthy Child Hot Topic – an effort by Healthy Child Healthy World to help inspire a movement to protect children from harmful chemicals

Read more: http://healthychild.org/blog/comments/holiday_table_talk…or_not/#ixzz14B1mTmNx

I’m writing this on Halloween, hours before I will lovingly allow my three kids to indulge in stuffing their faces with forbidden foods. In fact, all weekend has been that sort of experience for us. On Friday there was, of course, a Halloween celebration at my oldest son’s school…with Doritoes (that he declined!), fruit punch, and cupcakes. Yesterday, we made a last minute dash to the pumpkin picking farm where our hayride ticket included a powdered donut. In the afternoon, our family headed over to my son’s soccer game, where snack was Kellogg’s “fruit” snacks and CapriSun.

Lucky for me, I determined in advance that this was going to be a “yes” weekend.  To show my kids that we can veer from the plan when its purposeful and mindful– and to give myself a break from being a walking, “No.”

But what about next weekend? And over the holiday season? And throughout the year when we are constantly bombarded by “reasons to celebrate?” (Valentine’s Day, Birthdays, Going Away Parties, Retirements, Graduations)

I cannot live a “yes” weekend every day of the year. The repercussions (impulsivity, diarrhea, postnasal drip, eczema, moodiness, and interrupted sleep) don’t work for me.

Hence, the walking “no.”

I don’t like saying it all the time and I don’t appreciate being the outcast and I don’t always feel like standing up for myself and my kids.

It’s moments like this when I completely understand the desire to live on a commune or to homeschool.

Sometimes I feel like leaving my house is equivalent to preparing for battle.

It takes courage, convinction, and grace. 

Mostly it requires hope.

Hope that as I continue to live my life as mindfully and as purposefully as possible, more people will wake up. And those people will make choices who will make my life a little bit easier.

That said, I’m not opposed to the commune idea. Particularly if it’s nut-free, dairy-free, and gluten-free with a Waldorf-like school on site that uses eco-friendly cleaning products and prepares home-cooked, whole food-based meals for their students. An acupuncturist, naturopath, and chiropractor on site would be an added bonus!

Sure would make life helluva lot easier for me.

I read it last Sunday after a particularly unexemplary moment with my oldest child.

There’s nothing that makes me feel worse than screwing up with my kids. Particularly with the oldest one, who is seven, since he is very bright, sensitive, and constantly shows me that my husband and I are doing something right while raising him.

My seven year old son is a carbon copy of me. And like me he is full of energy and outgoing. He is also hot-tempered and stubborn. So that when we “get into it,” we’re two bulls ramming heads. (He is actually a Sagitarius and I’m a Leo. Go ahead and analyze us, astrology lovers.)

A few years ago, my husband and I took a course called The Landmark Forum and when we got home, we were determined to designate our home a “yelling free zone.” We told our then four-year-old son that moving forward, when we started raising our voices, he would be permitted to look at us and say, “This is not a yelling house.” And we promised to shut the hell up.

You know what? It worked. And it actually put us on the path of taking ownership for the behavior that we didn’t like in ourselves and the kind of stuff that was significantly contributing to our family’s quality of life.

I did not grow up in a yelling free zone. Quite the opposite. It was a “scream at the top of your lungs and storm up and down the stairs zone.” Luckily, it wasn’t a hitting or beating zone…but looking back, I can see how growing up in an angry household impacted my health and wellness.

That’s not the kind of environment I want to raise my kids in. It’s not the kind of family I want to be. And it’s not who I want to be as a wife, a mother or an individual.

It’s not easy because I can be an angry bitch, sometimes.

But there is never any reason to take out your anger on your kids rather than your boss. (Or your spouse, or your mother, or the Universe.)

And no matter how bad your seven year old has screwed up, he is still learning.

Let me repeat that.

He is still learning.

And his number one, most favorite, every day teacher is you.

So when I lose it with my son, I say sorry. I kiss him and love him and tell him I wish I had handled the situation better. I take complete 100% ownership for my behavior. At best, I use it as a teaching moment for how not to handle anger or fear or frustration.

And if I’m lucky, when he grows up, he’ll be a little less like me.

Yesterday on Facebook, I saw Dr. Oz posted about his 28-day National Soda Challenge. I thought this sounded pretty cool — From the description, it seemed like a community effort to quit something that makes people sick. As Dr. Oz says in the intro to the 28-Day challenge:

Soda is an addictive stimulant, loaded with caffeine and high-fructose corn syrup; it’s making Americans sick and fat. Break the cycle of addiction…

So I read further. Dr. Oz starts with Step 1: Go Sugar Free. This is a great suggestion. Except for the fact that Dr. Oz suggests you switch from soda to diet soda.

Are you f-ing kidding me, Dr. Oz?

He claims, “If you only drink diet soda already, you’re one step ahead of the game.”

One step towards where? Cancer? Death? How do you justify suggesting people switch from one drug to another?

I took a deep breath and continued on to Step 2 hoping it would get better.

IT DIDN’T!!!!

Step 2: Go caffeine free. Okay, good start. But then Dr. Oz reminds the challenge participants:

Remember that headaches are a common symptom of caffeine withdrawal. Take ibuprofen for headache relief.

Couldn’t Dr. Oz…proponent of natural medicine…offer any other suggestions for headache relief other than medication? How about massage? Acupressure? Acupuncture? Extra rest? Deep breathing? Sure, he encourages you to add “foods rich in vitamin B to your diet, like chickpeas, spinach and whole grain cereal.” But that type of diet change is not going to offer immediate headache relief.

By the time you get to Step 4, you’re supposed to be “Soda Free.” Hooray for you!

And you know what Dr. Oz suggests if you’re still having a hard time 28 days later?

If you experience a craving, try chewing sugar-free gum.  Additionally, if you find yourself fixating on soda, find a method of distraction, like taking a walk, doing 10 push-ups or cleaning 

Look, Dr. Oz. I know it’s not you writing the content for this challenge. It’s very likely you hardly even know it’s taking place!

But the next time your assistant hires an intern to handle your social media content, try to choose someone

WHO ACTUALLY HAS A CLUE.

This is unacceptable.

If you agree, RETWEET this like crazy, SHARE this post with your friends, and go visit Dr. Oz’s web communities and point him to The Wellness Bitch. Let’s WAKE UP Dr. Oz.

UPDATE: By the way, folks, Dr. Oz’s resume includes “Honored by the New York Open Center for “outstanding research in writing and communication (and for) bridging Western and alternative/complementary medicine.” Not this time.