Day 10: A Question for Darth Vader

Today isn’t going to be a post about Oil Pulling.  My neck still hurts and I had to use my inhaler last night, both of which are making me wonder what, if any, toxins are actually being drawn from my body.  So instead of focusing on the swish, I’m going to spend the next twenty minutes letting my mind wander to a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Let’s pretend I’m asking Darth Vader a question that has been floating around since my formative years:
Continue reading

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Day 9: Oil Pulling and My Dog

oliver

It’s 7:51 AM and my mouth is full of chunky coconut oil. The seconds pass. The oil melts. My dog, a Dachshund Pomeranian mix named Oliver, sits by my feet and nudges me with his nose.  He wants to go outside.  It’s the first night in three he hasn’t dropped deuce on the floor while we slept and he wants a reward.  While I am happy for this small victory, I am under no delusions that it’s the beginning of a trend.  It is simply one day off from the normal routine. Continue reading

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Day 8: Big Brother is Watching

My spine hurts.  The pain does not run the entire length of it, but instead is localized at the base of my neck.  It’s hard to ignore.  I feel a dull throb when I remain still, and when I move my head left and right there is a noticeable pull, like an old rubber band that stretches against its will. Continue reading

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Day 7: Not a Day of Rest

And on the Seventh Day, He rested.  Or so they said.  They also said I should burn a bull because the scent is pleasing to Him, I should be killed for cutting the hair that grows above my ears, and also for wearing outfits that mix cotton and leather. Continue reading

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Day 6: The Burden of Proof

Here we are.  It’s Day 9:13 AM on day six.  I’m awake, I have a mouth full of coconut oil, and I’m back at the computer to swish and write.  The same as yesterday, the oil was not liquid when I spooned it from the jar.  It was solid, like the fat that renders on top of homemade chicken soup left in the fridge over night, and had to sit in my mouth for about fifteen seconds before melted down to a consistency I can pull through my teeth. Continue reading

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Day 5: When the Truth is Threatened

This morning’s tablespoon of coconut oil was unlike the previous four days.  While those mouthfuls all started as clear liquid, today’s started as a solid, chunky mass.  The oil congealed in its jar.  I’m not sure how or why it happened, though I’m sure there is a perfectly scientific explanation for it.  Google probably has the answer.  But who has time to do that kind of research?  I don’t.  Not when three minutes have already ticked off the clock and I’m still stuck here in the first paragraph of the day. Continue reading

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Day 4: My Powers Are Growing

I fully expected snow when I woke up this morning because the weather report has been calling for it all week.  Winter Storm Vulcan, I believe it’s been dubbed.  It sounded more dubious than Victor, and certainly more foreboding than Valerie.  Yet as I sit and swish and type, I look out the window and see nothing but sun.

Could it be?  Is it possible? Continue reading

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Day 3: The Drip

The Scarecrow dropped some wisdom while walking down the Yellow Brick Road.  It will only get darker, he told a frightened Dorothy, before it gets lighter.  I am wondering if that axiom could also be applied to my experiment with Oil Pulling. Continue reading

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Day 2: The Search For Proof

My alarm went off at 7:43 AM.  I don’t know why, but I’m more comfortable waking up at an odd minute than an even one.  I wouldn’t call it superstition, but that’s the first word that comes to mind.  This habit is neither here nor there, however, when it comes to my Oil Pulling investigation. Continue reading

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Day 1: My Oil Pulling Journey Begins.

I first heard about oil pulling from a prospective employer who was looking to increase engagement on his brand’s Facebook page.  The current posts weren’t working, he said.  No one cared that it was National Peel a Banana Day.  Product photos shot with a cell phone weren’t catching anyone’s eye, and the plethora of recipes they blasted out into the public weren’t gaining any traction, either.

The only post that had even been semi-successful was about something called Oil Pulling.  I asked him to explain but he shrugged the whole thing off, saying it was something the brand team forced him to talk about.  It was a fad, he said.  Some homeopathic voodoo that was more disgusting than it was worth.

I turned down the work and didn’t give Oil Pulling a second thought.  Then, last week, the topic exploded in my feed.  Friends from all my various circles were sharing articles and asking the same two questions – has anyone done it, and does it work?

So now I’m sitting at my desk with a mouth full of coconut oil and the timer running down on my clock.  They say you’re supposed to swish it around for twenty minutes. That’s a long time to gargle, but it’s not a long time to write.  That’s why I’ve decided to combine the two.  Each morning I will sit and swish and write for twenty minutes.  Hopefully, by the time all is said and done, I’ll be in the habit of putting the proverbial pen to paper every day, and my oral hygiene will be through the roof.

Right now I’m about 10 minutes into the thing.  At first I was worried about my choice of oils.  The articles I’ve seen suggest coconut or sesame as the top two to try, with each having their own benefits and supporters.  I went with the former because it’s the only one we had in the pantry.  Like Confuscius said – “One cannot swish what one does not have.”

Normally I’m an anti-coconut kind of guy.  I don’t like the water, avoid piña coladas in the summertime, and shake my head at Samoa cookies when the Girl Scouts start coming around.  Something about the taste just doesn’t jive with my constitution.

This isn’t bad, though.  The initial tongue contact made me wince, but I think that was more reflex than anything else.  Once I started moving it around, pulling it between my teeth, and running it back and forth across my gums, the flavor disappeared.  Either I got used to it, or the bacteria in my mouth knocked it out.  Whichever happened, it now feels like I’m dealing with a mouth full of warm, viscous water.

My jaw has held up surprisingly well, too.  I’ve read that the twenty minutes of movement is enough to make any man’s mouth tired, but since this is Day One, I’ve been taking it slow and easy.  As the calendar marches on and my mouth muscles build, I will soon swish with the strength of 1,000 flannel-clad lumberjacks.

Or one.  That’s probably the more attainable goal.

And now, with the timer on my phone going off, I spit.

Day One is done and I can officially say I’m an Oil Puller.  And you, dear reader, can brag to your friends that you knew me when.

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