Feast or Fast

I’ve been accused of over-preparing food.

The people who would scold me for said crime are the same ones who would complain if I didn’t make their personal favorite dish for EVERY celebration.

Food is a love language, so I guess you could say I’m bilingual. Fluent, actually. 

The irony is, I eat only a small fraction of what I cook. I’ll spare the details behind my restrictive diet but suffice it to say that I’m no stranger to food anxiety. As such, I’ve engaged in countless elimination diets in an effort to quiet the beast within whilst nourishing myself.

The bright side of ‘selective intake’ is a much healthier body than the teen version of me who grew up in the break-out generation of fast food and sugared cereal.

Much is written these days about the benefits of fasting.  The practice is both fashion-forward and archaic, having been used for a range of reasons from physiologic prowess to spiritual enlightenment.

Pope Francis provided this gem:

The most appealing diet ever! Of course I adopted it on the spot and posted it in several areas of my home like an amateur. Could I not have predicted that Husband would ask me in a sarcastic and self-righteous tone how my fast was going when I became impatient? And immediately after that when I snapped at him for asking?

Seriously, I did pretty well considering the near impossible odds of actually getting over the habit of being myself. I’ve been on the personal growth block long enough to know that baby steps are a win. When anger rises up, noticing it and stopping it 3 seconds earlier than usual is cause for celebration.

The idea of fasting from that which brings us down and feasting on that which raises all of us up, is delicious AND nutritious. Bonus: it’s free food. It costs nothing to indulge in joy and hope and gratitude.

Junk ‘food’ on the other hand comes with a hefty price. Pessimism and resentment are thieves that will rob us blind and ruin our relationships in the process.

Spiritual fasting isn’t any easier than the physical version. I doubt I’ll avoid my propensity to shout when triggered. But if I can shed a few pounds of worry…

I suspect I’ll be a happier and healthier version of me.

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