WHY FAST?
Seriously, why fast? What could an ancient practice from a whole host of religions and practices have to teach us in our modern context? That’s a fair question. Fasting sounds both unenjoyable and downright ascetic to us in the west today. It has come to be understood as primarily dietary or just pointless, both of which are understandable, but I think misinformed.
Here’s what I mean when I talk about fasting: giving up food (but not water) for a set period of time, be it a few hours or a few days.
I’d love to share three things I’ve learned about fasting and what it’s brought out in my life. But before I do, there’s something worth clarifying: fasting, as I’m going to speak about it, is not a dietary tool. It’s not about eating less to “look better” or “punish your body” or any of that stupid stuff. Fasting, as I’ve come to find it, is primarily a psychological and spiritual experience that engages my body. It’s not really about having eaten less food for the sake of eating less food; it’s about the response our body goes into in a psychosomatic sense. It’s about what an empty stomach does to our brain, our spirit, if you will. Please don’t take up fasting thinking it’ll help you “sculpt” your body, because that’s just not the point. This is a very nuanced topic, and while I’m going to do the best I can to speak to my experience, if anything is unclear, please don’t hesitate to reach out (hamiltonmcafee@gmail.com).
So… why fast?
The first and most obvious thing I’ve found in fasting is its ability to remind us of our dependence. It doesn’t take long without food (two hours, maybe) to show us how much we need it. We need something from outside of ourselves to function. We just don’t have everything we need inside of us we need to live. We need this outside thing, food, in order to function how we were designed to function. And this is a gift. It reminds us we are not complete beings who don’t need anything but us. We need other people, their insights, their love. We have needs, and that’s ok. Fasting is a great way to come to terms with your limits, your needs, and come to accept them as part of your humanness.
The second thing I’ve found in fasting is how it teaches us to say “no.” It’s not uncommon in fasting to crave food the whole time, and to have your mind remind you of all the things you’d like to eat, over and over and over. And over and over and over again, you get to tell these cravings “no.” In my life, I feel like I have a hard time saying no to my cravings. It’s not easy to say no to another unnecessary or wasteful purchase, meaningless sexual encounter, a doom-scroll through social media. It’s not that I don’t see these as unhealthy things, it’s just that my ability to say no gets overpowered by my cravings. I’m starting to believe that “no” is not just a word, it’s a muscle. The ability to say no is a practiced thing, and fasting is a fantastic way to practice.
Finally, fasting is also better than just about anything at bringing you back to the present, to reality right here right now. It’s hard to daydream when you’re hungry (except about food). Your stomach’s need speaks to you constantly, which means you are totally engaged with the current moment, and it’s almost impossible not to be. “Being present” is such a common desire in today’s world, and I’ve found that engaging my stomach in fasting every once in a while has been one of the best ways for me to get there. You’ll also notice that when you’re not fasting, the effect is still the same. You may find yourself filled with gratitude for you lack of hunger, which is also a measure of our ability to be present in what’s happening in the here and now.
How often or how long you should fast is a question for you to answer. If you’re toeing the line in curiosity, I’d encourage you to try it. Go three to five hours without eating food (but drinking plenty of water). If fasting is new for you, pick a day where you don’t plan on moving a whole ton, especially not later into your fast. I find that I can exercise early in the morning of a fasting time, but not later that day. I’d also encourage you to keep your fast as secret as possible. Tell anyone who would need to know (a spouse, maybe), but try to stay extra low-key. The reason I say this is because we as humans have a tendency to get distracted by attention. When our fast becomes about the fact we’re fasting rather than what the fasting is doing inside of us, we start to miss the point and lose out on what we could be seeing. Secrecy is a tool that allows us to stay focused on what our practice is doing inside of us instead of being distracted by what the world thinks about it. (Another essay, another time). Nonetheless, if you’re game to try it, do it.
However, if fasting sounds like an “absolutely not” for you, that’s fine. I’m not going to pretend that the key to unlocking all of the happiness you’ve been waiting for is on the other side of a good fast or two. It’s probably not. But fasting, like other practices (meditation, exercise) is just another tool to engage our bodies in living well. For me, it’s helped to see and make peace with my dependence, to say “no” deliberately, and to come back to the present as it is here and now. It’ll probably teach you your own few lessons too.