The morning is fresh. The earth quiet. A calm enfolds me and I am at one. And so begins the day I’ll go 24 hours without food.
A voice told me this achievement would come a month ago and Though doubt still infiltrates my mind I set my path before me. The night before I had a dream-one of those dreams- and woke at 1:30 am with a craving. I slammed down a generous portion of vanilla frosted cinnamon rolls and a salami wrap with some dijon mustard. The gluttony is shameful and yet necessary. 20 lbs lighter, my body has hit a point where it needs refueling. Belly stretched and mind satiated , I go back to bed with no sense of guilt but rather assurance.
I have no plans of fasting. I had no plans of dieting. The truth is there’s 20 teenagers in my house painting and it’s rather inconvenient to squeeze through to the refrigerator to grab my usual croissant. Instead I make a cup of coffee, then two then three while 2 hours pass. I realize I’ve missed breakfast and that I’m not hungry. At that moment I decide today will be the day the fast happens.
We live in a curious time when the triumph of will power and true determination are celebrated as the de facto motto to live be. You just have to want it more and try your hardest AND the mind shall achieve. Of course this thinking will inevitably lead to disaster because undoubtedly once the resolution has been pulled thin enough the mind will break. And yet we plug on. We lost weight gain it back then cut back more telling ourselves next time we’ll try harder and nor fail. It’s a vicious cycle and rather sad. It also reinforces the lazy on the strong will survive mentality.
And yet here I am 20 lbs lighter and full, walking distance 20 miles and in complete disbelief that my stomach hasn’t growled nor my mind craved. I should be fighting the urge to buy a donut and yet struggle just to want food again. By 1:10 that night I break fast 20 minutes shy of a full day not because I hunger but rather desire to go to bed.
I have no idea what a fast is like from one person to another. I know four years ago I tried to do so and ended up staring at a wall for 8 hours fighting the urge to eat. It was torture and I told myself I would never make the attempt again and yet I fall asleep more convinced that God hands have taken hold of me. A Christian might suggest I tremble in fear but I remain steadfast in love and hope. I have achieved the impossible and witnessed a miracle. And so it is.