The 25 Body Type Diet

The Body Type Cafe

A Conversation with a Liver Body Type

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Listen in on the Body Type Dialogue!

Imagine yourself surrounded by soft jazz, cushy chairs and hot mocha espressos. You've just entered your favorite cafe - and you're there to curl up, relax, and eavesdrop on the latest! This is no ordinary cafe with ordinary conversation. Each one of our Body Type Dialogue stories illustrates how the different body types think, react and deal with each other. You may read a story about a Heart man gushing over a cute latte-drinking Adrenal girl. Or, a Thyroid man may be discussing his marketing budget with his Lymph supervisor. Wherever the conversation leads you, you'll come away with a better understanding of the 25 Body Types, and learn how they may react in real-life conversations.

We hope you enjoy these whimsical stories and they help you gain a deeper understanding of the 25 Body Types.

Rita Smyth sat quietly sipping her tea in the atrium of the Body Type Café. She felt herself slip into a dreamy state as she listened to the gentle gurgling of the fountain. Her body was relaxed and still, but her eyes moved like a honey bee from plant to flower to plant, drinking in it's beauty and then moving on to the next. "What a beautiful place. I could sit here all day," she thought. "And to think it's the middle of January." After 25 years, she still couldn't get used to the sunshine and warmth in the middle of winter.

"Mrs. Smyth. Excuse me, Mrs. Smyth. This is for you. Your daughter." Rita looked up as the waitress handed her a portable phone.

"Oh, my. Thank you. Thank you, dear," she responded as she put the phone to her ear. "This is Rita. Hi, Lisa. What? Please calm down. Okay, just take a few deep breaths and then tell me what's happening. Have you called your brother and sister? Do that now. I'll leave here immediately and meet all of you at the house. Do you understand? Call Pat and Georgie. Have one of them drive you to my house. I don't want you driving, okay? It will all be fine, dear. I'll see you in a few minutes and we'll…. it'll be fine. Please call your sister. Okay, I know. Try to stay in the present moment. Imagining the worst is not going to help. Lisa, hang up the phone and call your sister. I will meet you at the house in a few minutes. Go now, dear." Rita looked up at the waitress whose face was full of concern.

"Mrs. Smyth, what's wrong?"

Rita drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as she tried to gather her thoughts and quell the fear welling in her abdomen. Moments passed before she answered. "A plane has just crashed on takeoff from the Vale, Colorado airport. My son-in-law, Richard, and my two grandchildren, Carla and Rich Jr., were scheduled on that flight. My daughter says that storm conditions there are making it impossible to get information. We don't know how many people have been hurt or who they are."

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"Thank you, honey. I want to pay this check and get right home. I need to be there for my daughter. She's frantic."

"I understand. Never mind the check. I'll take care of it. Just go and do what you need to do, okay? And please let us know what's happening. We will all be praying for you."

"Thank you, dear. Thank you very much."


As Rita rounded the corner near her home, she saw her oldest daughter's car parked outside the house. She felt the fear starting to well up again and continued to breathe deep and low to release it. Pulling her car into her driveway, she said to herself out loud, "Rita, now more than ever your family needs you to be strong". Before she was out of the car, her youngest child, Lisa, came running from the house, crying hysterically. Behind her, Georgie, her oldest, followed, her eyes filled with tears. Rita threw her arms around both her girls. "Okay, okay. It's okay. Mom's here." Her voice was steady and reassuring. Breaking off her hug, Rita stood back and looked straight at her daughters and, with a tone meant to be obeyed, said, "Now let's stop all this crying business and get to work finding out if we even have anything to cry about". As they turned and headed back toward the house, tires could be heard squealing around the corner. "That will be your brother, I suspect," Rita commented without even looking around.-

Moments later, Pat, the middle child, flew through the front door and headed straight for Lisa. He threw his arms around his little sister. "How are you doing? You must be terrified. Do you know anything yet?”

Lisa started to sob in her brother's arms. Mom answered for her. "She's doing as well as can be expected, and yes, we are all afraid, and no, we don't know a thing. I want you to go into the den and get on the Internet and see if you can get some kind of information out of Vale."

"You got it, Mom."

"Georgie, get your sister some Kleenex. Then I want you to go next door to the Boyd's and use their phone to contact the airline and the authorities in Vale. I want to keep this phone open in case someone needs to get through here. Here, take my calling card."

"Okay, Mom. Here you go, Lisa.”

Lisa reached up and took the tissues from her sister, then burst out crying. "God, I'm so scared. Mom, what am I going to do? If they're ..." She couldn't finish her sentence. She was crying so hard she could hardly breathe.

Rita grabbed her daughter's arms and squeezed them as she looked into her eyes and, with a firm tone, said, "Excuse me, young lady! If there's one thing I've taught you in your 26 years, it's to try and stay in the moment and to stay with the facts. As long as we have no information, I want you to fill in all the blanks with good things. Okay?"

Lisa looked up at her mom and pushed back her tears. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm just so scared."

"I know, honey. I know." Rita held her daughter, knowing too well the fear she felt. She had trouble holding back her own tears. "Now why don't you make us a pot of tea and I'll try to get some information."

Rita sat down at the kitchen table with pencil and pad while Lisa busied herself making tea. One thing Rita's years of teaching experience had taught her was that emergencies respond best to a systematic approach. So she started to list all the possible avenues of obtaining the information they needed. She also began to make a list of everyone who would need to be contacted should the worst have happened.

While Rita worked, she became aware of other voices in the house. In the next hour, more then fifteen people would arrive. Rita moved from person to person, consoling, thanking, encouraging and organizing. She was moved by the outpouring of helpfulness and love from so many people and so quickly. "How do they know?” she wondered.

Rita was a physically strong woman, but the anxiety of not knowing and the high emotions all around her were starting to take their toll. She managed to keep her soft spoken and positive manner, but she was starting to fatigue, and it was becoming difficult to hold back her emotions.

Nearly another hour passed. Little bits and pieces of information were starting to come in from all directions. A news report here, a call from someone there. Little of it was of substance, and not a scrap of it was about Richard and the kids. The busy activity of people's initial efforts, the positive comments, the hugs and encouragement all started to settle into an uneasy quiet as more time passed.

Then from the back of the house, a shout — “Wahoo! All Right! Come here, everybody! Hurry, come here!" It was Pat calling. Everyone rushed towards the den. It was standing room only as a dozen people filed into the small room. "Look! Come here and look, Lisa. This e-mail message was sent nearly two hours ago and it's just now arrived." Everyone stared in silence at the message on the monitor.

Subject: Missed Flight
Date: Sat, 18 Jan 12:31:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: Richard


Heavy snow here. Missed our flight. We'll have to stay one more night. Phones aren't working right.

Please call Lisa. I'll contact you as soon as possible with our new arrival time.

Richard, Rich & Carla

Then, pandemonium, as a collective cheer filled the room. Hugs, tears, congratulations all around. Rita hugged each of her kids in turn.


It was late in the evening, after everyone had left. The phone had stopped ringing. Pat and Georgie were home with their families, and Lisa was sound asleep in the extra room before Rita was able to sit alone and reflect on the day's happenings. She settled into her easy chair, and as an irresistible sleepiness fell over her, she congratulated herself, “You did good today. Job well done. But that was just too close".

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