As you know, this is when we listen to a lovely rendition of Ave Maria (as well as something somewhat less timeless) and, in recent years, discuss what we’re giving up for Lent.
Well, I got back from the doctor’s on Monday where I was told that I had officially transitioned from “chubby” to “fat”. “Start exercising and go on a diet.” “Can I go on a ketosis diet?” “If you’ll stick with it AND STAY HYDRATED.”
So, this year, in addition to giving up purchasing video games, I will also be giving up carbs (as best I can, anyway) for Lent (and, looks like, for a few months beyond).
Of course, I only got into this position from the sheer amount of absolutely awesome carbs out there that taste good on the tongue and feel good in the belly and bathe the brain in dopamine and serotonin (my two favorite things!) and… well. In the face of indulging oneself in such things for a good long while, it’s good to do something like say “Hey. It’s time to give up on that for a time and contemplate exactly how much really awesome stuff I have surrounding me and I should do what I can to appreciate it and be present when I allow myself to enjoy it again.”
I mean, in years past, I bought video games and thought “hey, when I get time to myself, I will totally play this” and they sat on the shelf and aged and we moved from this generation of video game consoles to that one and there it sat, unopened, and that’s money that could have just as easily bought a goat for a needy family or helped a poor kid in rural Appalachia or, heck, gotten 2% interest in the bank.
I should do that less. I should be more present. As such, I’m giving up buying video games for Lent (and board games too, for that matter) and, on top of that, I’m going on a diet.
Right after taking Maribou out to the IHOP on Tuesday night for pancakes.
So… what are you giving up for Lent?
(And I need another “Oh, I remember that song!” song for the post… here’s one.)
(Picture is “Looks like Lent” by Thirteen of Clubs, used under a Creative Commons license.)
Being as I am, devotionally challenged, I keep my penances small but constant, mix in some additional prayer, a weekly corporal work of mercy… and I’m petitioning my confessor (unsuccessfully) to allow my time spent here to count as a spiritual work of mercy.
Here’s a really nice version with a Mardi Gras treat… [I can’t seem to get it to embed]
https://youtu.be/9jliWPm6hoU?t=5s
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Give up harsh words – Use generous ones
Give up unhappiness – Take up gratitude
Give up anger – Take up gentleness & patience
Give up pessimism – Take up hope and optimism
Give up worrying – Take up trust in God
Give up complaining – Value what you have
Give up stress – Take up prayer
Give up judging others – Discover God within them
Give up sorrow and bitterness – Fill your heart with joy
Give up selfishness – Take up compassion for others
Give up being unforgiving – Learn reconciliation
Give up words – Fill yourself with silence & listen to others
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It helps you to enjoy them again when you restart them again.
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https://youtu.be/Voz3aN4MiiI
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One contemporary theory of “cravings” (e.g., nicotine cravings) is that the psychological component, at least, comes from encountering a “block” or “barrier” to satiety (i.e., Lacan was right all along!). Better to just remove the barriers then, I say.
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So I no longer say, “I’m never doing [X] again”; I say, “I’m not doing [X] today”, and then just say it again tomorrow, and the day after that, etc.
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The gist being that we’re all basically rebellious teenagers at risk of yelling to our better selves, “You don’t get me! You can’t control me!” as we figuratively tip over porta-potties in the middle of the night.
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Never have another drink, ever? Not only does that seem a miserable existence if I somehow succeed, but I know right now that I will definitely fail, so fish it, I’m having a drink.
But not drinking *today*? That, I might be able to manage. Then, get a bunch of those single days under your belt.
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The alternatives are none days, all days or some random collection of days – why 40? New Year’s resolutions are pretty much “none” – there’s no reinforcement after that one day. Lent, at a minimum, is a reminder for 40-days of the thing you wanted to do on day-one, and possibly haven’t. Ancient wisdom and formation practices learned over centuries recognize that it takes about 6-weeks to cultivate a new habit or virtue. Recent “studies” suggest somewhere from 18-66 days is common (depending on the habit one wants to form or break).
So, studies show 40-days is a great target for you to work on habits or virtues.
And a 365-day Lent? That’s just inhuman.
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This year, however, there’s a probability that the time is going to be filled by keeping up on the news (in particular, the US presidential primaries) instead.
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Because, apparently, I’ve also given up diet sodas.
Which means that I’ve also given up caffeine, for the most part.
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And besides, coffee is a way more satisfying source of caffeine, anyway.
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Good luck!
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I’ve very optimistic about the IVF and have every reason to be. Actually, I can’t think of a reason that it wouldn’t work out. I’m keeping my fingers crossed I’ll soon be a positive statistic at one of those clinics that has “one of the best success rates in the country”.
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