Somehow I got it into my head to fast.

I can't really say "somehow": I know exactly how it got into my head. I met some girls at Bible Study. They're from churches in places with southern accents where Christianity grows wild and raw like those shrub-trees that grow ten feet in a year. They fast all the time, they said. They're from fasting families, fasting churches. I never even heard of such a thing. I assumed that all that fasting that happens in the Bible ended right after the days of the mighty Israelites, when God made a covenant with the church that they would both make better decisions on a full stomach. I figured that this was also when God invented Lemonade and corn nuts. The Jamaican girl agrees with the southerners. She probably fasts at least once a week, she says, and she doesn't drink, either, but she never tells anyone. And she's Jamaican; she could probably get seventeen people to send her the finest rum on a moment's notice, but she doesn't do it. The feeling that you get when you fast for the Lord is transcendent, say the girls at Bible Study. You meditate and you contemplate and you trample down the Bodily Self so that the Spiritual Self can finally breathe free. I like the idea of trampling down that ol' Bodily Self. I like the idea of being free. So the notion drifted into my head like a little seed from a ten-foot fast-growing shrub and it took root in the fleshy curves of my impressionable brain.

"I have never fasted," I say to the group of forty strangers, "but I can see why it would be an interesting thing to do. Every time you are hungry, you can try to focus on what you are really hungry for, which is the Lord." I believe each of my own words as they come tumbling out of my mouth. I would say that making up words in front of large groups of strangers is a rare thing for me, but that would be a lie.

I decide to begin my fast after lunch. That is, about three weeks later and after lunch. The seed needed time to germinate in nutrient-rich, cookie-filled soil before it was ready to start growing. And you can't really begin any kind of difficult spiritual journey in the morning or on an empty stomach.

The first thing I notice about my transcendent relationship with the Lord is that I'm hungry. The second thing I notice is that I'm bored. I try to think of things to fill the rest of the afternoon, but idea after idea contains food. "I'm hungry," says my stomach. "For the Lord," replies my brain. I've never thought about the Lord so continuously Ever. Maybe the fast is working.

I return to my apartment, where I cannot spend the entire evening cooking dinner. I realize that most nights I cook things that take an inordinately long time to prepare just because I'm bored and it fills up time and the steam heats my apartment. I read a book. I tire of reading the book. I drink water. I read another book. I go outside and see what they're playing at the movies. I decide that a movie is cheating, after all, I'm supposed to be meditating on the Lord. I read another book. The radio is playing indian show tunes. I feel empty and lean, like a wolf. I wonder if fasting is going to make me skinnier. I berate myself for my worldly concerns. I can't get up because I feel dizzy. I know it is only in my mind because I have gone much longer than this without eating before. The hours between me and bedtime drip by like centuries.

I remember another time from church when I was talking in front of a crowd of strangers. After the crowd was gone I went to talk to the lead Philosopher, who is having a philosophical discussion with a philosophy student. "You said that God is like the eternal memory according to the Jews," said the student, dropping the names of eight philosophers, "but do you think that we retain our memories when we die?"
The Philosopher thought that we did, that unlike some other religions, we did not simply return to God like a drop of water returns someday to the sea.

"But I thought that Heaven was supposed to take away all of our pain," said the student, the names of five more philosophers sneaking their way into his question.

"What if our memories are a source of pain?"

Here his expression turned earnest and for a fraction of a second a glaze of water sprang to his academically detached eyes.

"I think when we rejoin God, we become aware of everything, and we are finally able to see all of our memories in context. In understanding all, our memories can no longer bring us pain," I said.

"I think that is a charitable way of looking at things," said the Philospher, who did not elaborate further.

I climb into bed. Judging from the noises that are coming out of it, an intergalactic space battle rages in my stomach. Be silenced, Bodily Self! I feel excited and alive and transcendent. I will fast every Sunday after lunch, I think. Starting a year from now, I add, getting sleepy... and taking yearly year-long breaks.

When I awake I am not hungry.
But my break fast is delicious.

People fasted a lot in the New Testament! Jesus fasted, no surprise there. heh. But yeah a lot of people do that, especially for Lent and such things. From what I've read, you eventually stop feeling hungry because your digestive track takes a break...that's when the transcendent feeling kicks in because your body is turning off the furnace, which is pretty cool. If you've never done it before (say for about a week) then you might get ill, maybe violently so. But it's not actually unhealthy as long as you resume eating before your body finishes burning stored fat and begins burning muscle and other tissues; at that point you're clinically starving yourself.

Also, you probably would lose a lot of weight doing that, but you have to be really careful mostly for health reasons, as stated above, and also because when you start eating again your body is going to be coming out of mega-conservation mode, and it will store a LOT of what you eat as fat in order to make up for it. So maybe you should bookend a week-long fast with a few days of just fruit/vegetable fasting?

I would like to do this someday, actually, and I've read a lot about it. You should too! It's really interesting to read.

Good luck with that tendency for casual lies! That's a killer. I'll pray for you!
» middaymoon on 2012-03-06 11:57:16

Oh, I see!
A lot of that time could be spent praying or reading the Bible, but yeah I imagine I'd get bored too, if I was used to preparing my own food. As it is I just eat in the student center or something once or twice a day, so eating is already a pretty small part of my day hah
» middaymoon on 2012-03-06 09:18:22

Name.

URL.

[to enter your email, use "mailto:[email protected]"]
Subject.

Comment.

Word verification.

Copy the first 4 characters only.

If you are a member, try logging in again or accessing this page here.