As people are on the last straight of their Lent renouncing, I look back at my many different attempts at living life to the best that I can, and this question comes to mind: to over indulge or to never indulge? Let me explain.
I consider myself an epicurean, someone who enjoys the nice things in life and doesn't apologise for it.
For me, this love of what life has to offer to our senses manifests itself in different ways: comfort in the house, nice toiletries, expensive make up and perfume, the feeling of speed (go karting, skiing,... never on the road of course...!), and other things, but the way that it brings me the most joy is in the enjoyment of food.
I often encourage my slender partner to eat more by appealing to his love of most things relating to Chinese culture: "Is this all you are eating? How are you going to survive Chinese banquets?". Chinese banquets are a 10 to 12 tantalising dishes affair, and there are most definitely different strategies to approach them. They need physical and mental preparation, whether your goal is to manage to eat as much as possible or to limit the damage on your waistline. My choice of goal is generally the former.
One of my favourite authors is MFK Fisher, who justifies my gargantuan appetite by talking about her "insatiable voracity" in a beautiful and compelling way.
In 'G is for Gluttony', she says: "It is a curious fact that no man likes to call himself a glutton, and yet each of us has in him a trace of gluttony, potential or actual. I cannot believe that there exists a single coherent human being who will not confess, at least to himself, that once or twice he has stuffed himself to the bursting point, on anything from quail financiere to flapjacks, for no other reason than the beast-like satisfaction of his belly. In fact I pity anyone who has not permitted himself this sensual experience, if only to determine what his own private limitations are, and where, for himself alone, gourmandise ends and gluttony begins."
As a human being, how can you not be attracted to this?
I recently watched an old Oscar-winning movie called 'Babette's Feast'. In the dull setting of a desolate and remote Nordic village in the 19th century, within a community of a Puritan flesh-renouncing sect, a French housemaid cooks a Michelin-star dinner. The tension from the petty discord in their frustrated lives is released by the culmination of a deliciously sensual meal, giving place to joy, goodwill and gracious disposition.
I do believe that sensual repression can bring the worst out of us human beings. Look at how cranky people who are trying to stop smoking can get, but even more basically, if I were starving, I would probably be more tempted to forego my sense of morality and my respect of other human beings.
Having said that, there is a type of sensual repression which appeals to me, one that fits in a holistic lifestyle.
Two years ago, my sister and I attended a yoga retreat in an eco-friendly farm on the south-western coast of Turkey. The week-long retreat consisted of a daily programme of a very early meditation session, two 2-hour long yoga sessions, one of them being an Ashtanga yoga practice (a dynamic and physically challenging type of yoga), and deliciously nourishing vegetarian food.
My body took a beating in this violent change in regime from my usual lifestyle, to the point where I felt like crying a couple of times from pain and resentment from early rises (I am not a morning person).
My sister left the table hungry every day, but I strangely felt completely satiated from eating very little of food that I found satisfying not only to my physical needs and my hunger but also to my palate.
I hardly slept that week, yet I came back home feeling uniquely strong in my body and clear in my mind. Clearly detoxing is a real thing!
I continued on the path of early one and a half hour long yoga practice every morning at 5am, vegetarianism and teetotalling for a couple of months or so, and gradually, the cracks in my rigid disciplined routine multiplied, and I gave up the vegetarianism first, and the yoga second, in favour of too many hours spent at work (I know, please don't judge me!).
Since then I have often fallen ill, or felt physical pains that many of us who have sedentary lifestyles feel, and I have been finding myself longing for this sensation of clarity and strength that I experienced as the result of a somewhat sensually-negating lifestyle.
Perhaps my perfectionism makes me devalue any experiences that aren't hyperboles. The ordinary is less appealing than the sublime. Damn the media and their advertising, their overuse of "Amazing!", "Wonderful!" and other superlatives that suggest that I shouldn't settle for anything short of exceptional.
I guess I have to face the fact that life is made of the ordinary as well as the sublime, that the sublime cannot exist without the ordinary, and that consequently I must live with compromises in life that give me mostly 'good enough' health and sensual experiences, as well as glimpses of sublime experiences.
My next question then is: How do I strike this balance?
I didn't have a Catholic upbringing, but maybe I should follow the tradition of Lent, maybe that would help me strike the right balance over a year.
Maybe I should just follow a detox programme for a while.
The book by Mireille Guiliano 'French Women Don't Get Fat' illustrates how the French regularly indulge in 3-course meals cooked in duck fat and still come out looking slender and elegant. Maybe I need to get away from the schizophrenic tendency to abstain, then binge and rekindle with my French heritage.
I don't have a good answer, but the more important part of the goal for me is about striking a balance between indulging in what makes me passionate - or in a good friend's words, what keeps "the lights on" (the sublime that gives me a voice, and the accompanying inspiration) but has the tendency to keep me awake and working until too late at night and to worsen my back and neck pain from sitting in front of an electronic device, and the necessary activities and moderation that turn me off and force me to pace myself and disrupt my flow, but sustain my health.
In this endeavour, I feel that routine is my key ally. Where did I read that discipline is the enabler of creativity?
Wish me luck and let me know how you do it!
