The craziness of these past 2 months has me barely thinking about anything but school and work. I've written 6 Book Bits since December and read an hour before bed each night but that's as much writing-related stuff I get done. I don't have much of a chance to think about it. But there's also one more thing I've almost completely forgotten about: My religion.
Somehow, out of all the things in my life, my faith was one that I've been neglecting for a while now, not just these past two teaching months. Ever since last summer, I've lacked in my concentration and ebbed in my faith. Lately, though, I've attempted to take time out of each day to meditate and remind myself of what I believe and find important.
It wasn't until today that I remembered the closest religious moment of the past two semesters. About mid-way through January I decided to attempt a fast of sorts. I don't claim to be Christian just because that's too strict a label so I guess it wouldn't be a fast. Whatever it is, it was perhaps the most strange thing I've ever endured. I arranged my eating habits so that I would only have one apple for lunch and a few chips or applesauce for dinner. I completely cut out anything but that (and beverages). There was absolutely no meat. One day I went with just an apple.
This was the hardest, most painful thing I've ever done in my entire life. The first day was bearable but the next were excruciating. My body went from always having food available to being denied basic sustenance. I wasn't just fasting. I was starving myself. Every inch of my body was in pain. My head was so fuzzy and light that I could barely think. My words were slurred. I got no more than a couple hours of sleep each night because I was so hungry. I remember my muscles screaming for energy, my head just spinning. When I think back on it now, I can barely remember those days.
It lasted five days. I decided that it was getting too risky for me to continue and called it off. While I know people think fasting is ridiculous, I haven't felt that enlightened in months. In moments where the only thing you could think of was food, it truly became apparent how frail life was. I rarely think about my mortality. I'm not expendable. I won't die that easy. I felt invincible.
Not after those five days. I realized I could die if I kept it up. There was nothing more keeping me alive than my own desire to live. I could have died in days. That's the amazing thing about starvation. When you are so close to death, so close to losing it all, you start to realize how much you actually have. Life is all about suffering, change, and difficulty. The thing that makes it worth living for is learning to overcome those obstacles.
That probably doesn't make that much sense though. Explaining how starving yourself brings you to a deeper understanding of your mortality and beliefs is hard to put into words. The experience was very beautiful though.
I guess I should at least concede that it did have a downside. Now when I'm hungry, I get such sharp pains in my stomach that it's almost debilitating. When I'm hungry, I'm famished and terrified I won't get food and must find something to eat immediately or I get migraines. It's not even logical how frantic my thoughts get. I guess that's just one more part of the learning experience though. It's evidence that at our heart, we still carry those primitive, instinctual desires for survival and will do anything to ensure it.
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