In Times of Abundance, Fasting Is More Needed Than Ever

I’m ridiculously bad at dealing with hunger. My husband makes fun of it all the time. Skipping breakfast brought me to tears on a few different occasions, so I don’t ever that unless I absolutely must. But every now and then I might skip lunch for various reasons, and then suddenly around 3pm I feel like the whole world is falling apart.

My husband knows that when I find myself at the verge of despair, listening to my complaints isn’t going to change much. What really works is a sandwich and perhaps a piece of cake. I’m embarrassed to admit that it helps every single time. As soon as I eat something, I can’t believe how upset I was just a minute before.

I don’t ever really have to go hungry. The only reason I sometimes do is forgetfulness. I live surrounded by abundant food, with fresh meat, fruit and vegetables available all year long. Even if I forget to stock my pantry, I can order takeout and have a delicious meal at my door in 30 minutes. What a luxury this is, especially during winter! When my grandmother was young, eating a chicken soup required killing a chicken first.

Were people in the past built differently, or were they just more used to hardships than I am? When the food delivery courier is running late, I often find myself increasingly annoyed. I remember getting very upset when a coffee shop messed up my order and only sent us one sandwich instead of two. These are the most first world problems anyone might ever have.

This is precisely why I decided to go on a strict fast today, subsisting on water and tea until tomorrow morning. I know a million reasons why this might a bad idea, and they were all running through my head as I was making breakfast for my daughter. Can I fully show up for her when I’m this grumpy? Am I going to vent all my frustration at her? Why make our lives harder, if I can avoid it?

My grandparents fasted for a few months each year. During Advent and Lent they refrained from meat, alcohol, joyful music and dancing. Twice a week they went without other animal products too on top of that. On some days they only had bread and water, or sometimes they even went without the bread. Their whole lives revolved around the Catholic liturgical calendar that told everyone when to fast and when to feast.

You couldn’t opt out of a fast even if you wanted to. There was only so much stockpiled food to go round. If you ignored the rules and ate everything in March, you’d have to go hungry in April anyway. If you killed most of your animals in winter, there wouldn’t be new baby animals born the next spring.

Nobody really has to fast anymore, and so people don’t. Even the Church relaxed their rules a lot since my mom was a kid. But few people care about what the Church says anyway. We see opulence as our birthright, and rarely stop to think that it’s an unprecedented anomaly, something only kings of the past could really afford. The rest of us was very familiar with hunger and carried on with their lives anyway. It’s not like they had any other choice.

Nobody really has to fast anymore, and this is precisely why I choose to do it now. I don’t want to find myself at the verge of tears when I skip a meal for whatever reason. I don’t want my husband to organize his whole life around making sure I don’t get grumpy because I haven’t eaten. Dealing with hunger is easier when I choose to do it than when I’m suddenly hungry against my will. When anger and frustration inevitably hit, I can let myself feel it all fully, remind myself why I’m doing it, take a deep breath, and keep going. I chose to put myself in this situation, and so I can choose not to be upset about how unpleasant it feels.

When the whole world tells you to do what feels good, being able to choose what feels bad is a superpower. It opens up options you’d never consider before. By going into a fast with the right mindset and intention, I can learn what happens to my body when it’s under slight stress and deal with the signals it’s sending on my own, so that I will be able to handle other stressful situations with more grace and wisdom in the future.

The more I put myself in this kind of situations, lovingly, gently, and with the intention of transmuting pain into something beautiful, the more I learn that at the end of the day, feeling bad isn’t really that much of a deal. If it was, humanity would have gone extinct long ago.