The Unintentional Cleanse

How a 24-hour bug reminded me that it's time to jump start a year

Photo by PhotoMIX Company

Yeah, I get it. You’re tired of seeing and reading a million things—social media posts, newsfeed stories, on and on about 2024 and how to push the reset button, start new, refresh, begin again.

Well, this is kind of like that. Sorry. But I promise you this is a bit different. This is a story of illness and something strangely mystical, how it became an unexpected energizer, a flower growing out of shallow earth.

I had the 24-hour bug. Blame my granddaughter. Those 2-year-olds are little Petri dishes. I won’t get into all the unnecessary details, but let’s just say I lost an entire day. It simply vanished in the nausea. The bed and the couch were my home for one full calendar day. Lots of water and an attempt to keep any of it down.

The following day I awoke early, earlier than usual. Around 5:15. It was as if everything bad had been made good. My body was strong. My mind was clear. There was an odd euphoria I could not explain. Have you ever had a really enlightening, uplifting dream that when you open your eyes you cannot forget it? And it carries on with you for a portion, if not all of your day? It was like that. Even stronger.

I leapt from bed. I went on a two-mile walk. I headed to my writing shed and wrote. Submitted stories to journals. I meditated. I ate a good, albeit light and healthy, protein-rich breakfast. I vacuumed the entire house. Changed the bedding. Ran all of it through the washer and dryer. Fixed a broken recess light in the basement. Wrote some more. Played the guitar. Took the dog to the groomer for a fluff and buff. Walked back to the groomer later in the day to retrieve her. Walked back home. Another mile or so. I made a lemon and ginger water concoction to keep in the refrigerator. I ground fresh coffee beans and mixed them with spices of cinnamon, ginger, cardamon, pepper, and cloves for a Moroccan style blend. I consumed a light dinner of chicken, broccoli, and rice, and found my stomach could only accept so much. I ate half of what I normally do, and it felt fantastic. All of it. Felt fantastic.

I’ve done intentional cleanses before. For the most part, they’ve been rejuvenators, to some extent. But this was unlike any of that. What was this? Was it 2024 telling me to shake things up? Was it the new year reminding me that I’m older and it is far past time to get it together? Was it simply metabolic? Less in, more energy out? Or was it something . . . more.

There’s a quote I love. One I’ve known for a long time, but saw it reposted somewhere in the first days of January.

"For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice."

—T.S. Eliot

I was given a new language that morning, another voice. The one-day illness washed away something. That’s the only way I can explain it.

Maybe I’m making too much of a simple physiological process. But I like to believe it was more than that. It was something bigger. Why? Because it wasn’t only a body experience. It was the mind, the spirit. I felt it. I feel it. At the risk of sounding like a marketplace practitioner of New Age gobbledygook, it was transformative. And it continues. Sure, it’s only been a few days. And yes, like a resolution, it might fade faster than an Instagram fad diet. We’ll see. But for now, I’m rolling with it.

Who to thank? Maybe my granddaughter. Ah, the unexplained, unexpected wisdom of youth.

Even when they’re sick.

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David W. Berner is the author of the award-winning novella The Islander and the forthcoming memoir Daylight Saving Time: The Power of Growing Older from Collective Ink Books.