This morning I break my fast.
I had the idea of going to The Battery and eating an apple while watching sunrise in the park, but I kept getting rained on so I turned around. I do intend to eat the apple, though, to break the fast.
It was a thoughtfully chosen fruit. First, it is of a variety, a Fuji, that I never particularly appreciated before. I always went for the sweeter, golden delicious. I want to make a positive association. I want to remember the taste of that Fuji apple. And I want to remember this fast every time I eat an apple.
Fifteen days is a long time. Reading the boards, there aren’t many who survive this long. And, of course, there are those who survive much longer. Not to be judgmental regarding anyone’s motivations, but I fear there is an egoistical, competitive drive to fast longer. This happens in any endeavor. A 5K run is no longer enough, a 10K must be run. Then a half marathon, but that is only half, but everybody and his dog has run a marathon, so it must be an ultra. Certainly I have been prey to this phenomena.
Even had the external circumstances which prompted ending the fast not existed, my body is telling me it is time. There is a certain weakness I feel, a shakiness. My vision has deteriorated, although, again, that may be a correction from lowering my blood sugar levels. High blood sugar levels may artificially keeping my eyesight acute, while slowly damaging my eyes.
Dawn rapidly approaches. Soon it will be light enough to see the apple, the richness of its colors. Presentation is important.
So is prayer. I want to develop the habit of thanking God for my food. To bless the food. Not an ostentatious display, mind you. I want to remember the things I learned to think when hunger struck. To remember the hunger. To remember the hungry, the downcast. To ask forgiveness for my gluttony, my selfishness, my ingratitude.
To thank God for his bounty. This simple principle transcends merely blessing a meal. Our lives are consumed whetting our appetites, yet we are never satisfied.
We are always hungry.
That is perhaps the ultimate lesson of the fast. Nothing material satisfies. Man does not live by bread alone.
A life well lived is a constant reflection on the Word of God.
The day breaks and the sun shines bright. No rain. I could have enjoyed the dawn at The Battery after all. I suppose it wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps I was meant to reflect on paper, so to speak, on the meaning of the breaking of the fast.
And with that, I break this fast. Thank God.
Do I start taking my medications?
