A night or two ago, I found myself waxing wistful for the Lenten Brain Fast I did a little over a year ago. It was such a hopeful time, where I wasn't worried because I didn't allow myself to dwell on worrisome things. I wasn't discouraged, because I didn't allow myself to dwell on discouraging things. I wasn't consumed with endless negative what-ifs, because that would have involved thinking, and I was fasting from that.
[Disclaimer: Most folks who know me will agree that a brain fast was a good idea, and that if anyone ever needed to think less, 'tis I. But for anyone who reflexively gets concerned, let me assure you that making rash, life-destroying decisions was not even a remote danger for me. Even without all the thinking, I still had sense.]
I'm not sure how to describe the time since that fast ended. Do I think less than I did before the fast? I'm not sure. I think I learned a valuable skill, but one of the reasons I was able to do it wholeheartedly was that I knew there was a time limit. What if I were to live the rest of my life that way? It might turn out to be a good thing, but it's a far bigger risk than 40 days.
Here I am, though, thinking about it again. I wonder if it would suit me now, as I live with my Nov. 4 prayer and it's fraternal twin, the summer 40 Days of Faith prayer. If one of my big goals is to learn to enjoy myself, and in order to enjoy myself I need to live in the moment, and if I wouldn't be able to enjoy other answered prayers without these abilities, then thinking less might once again be just what the doctor ordered.
I'll have to think about that ;-).
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