There is a very subtle interplay between the concepts of "need" and "want". Few of us manage to sustain the dynamic equilibrium between the ever fluctuating nature of our inner and outer environment, and the consumption of resources available to us to help us to adapt to these oscillations. For most, life is either an ever-continuing experiment with nature and reality – we sway too far in one direction and then rapidly swing back again, then move gently closer to the centre, only to just miss it and go veering off in the other direction – or it is a passive resignation to convention and less than optimal health: we stop trying.
Last week I undertook a detox programme which demanded that I not eat food for over a week. My diet was supplemented by a lemonade high in vitamins, minerals, carbs and spices to ease the digestive tract. Due to my pitta (fire) nature I am not the type to miss a meal and tend to become anxious and disorientated if this should occur. I could not have conceived of going for twenty four hours without at least juice or vegetables to quench my voracious appetite.
However, it was largely due to my pitta nature that I chose to take on the challenge of forgoing everything for an extended period. I was surprised at how easy it was to not eat. Once I had made the shift in my mind that food no longer applied to me I was very happy to sip my lemonade and was even relieved at being unburdened of the task of choosing whether, what and how much to eat, how to cook it and all those hundreds of tiny decisions that one makes just over food during the course of a day.
By the second day of my fast, the most notable thing that occurred to me was that when I felt hungry I didn’t necessarily want to eat, and that when I wanted to eat I didn’t necessarily feel hungry. By taking away the fuel of my psychological attachment, I was, for the first time in my life, directly experiencing the difference between need and want. I began first of all looking at my wants, which did not appear as cravings so much as glimmers or reflexes that were barely conscious. I perceived how these reflexes surfaced when I was tired, or at certain key points of the day when I would normally nibble on something for a treat. The most interesting thing for me was that I took refuge in the restraint. What I found more satisfying than indulging a want was the realisation that I did not need it.
A want is a symptom of a lack – an emotional boil which bursts at the surface of consciousness, and can manifest itself in any number of ways, usually as a projection on to the physical world. It may be a desire for chocolate, for attention or for a partner or a child to love, but it is always accompanied by a preceding and subsequent chain of corresponding emotions that may begin with anxiety, metamorphose into self-pity or greed, transform into guilt and then seep back into anxiety and dissatisfaction – and take on many guises and intensities in between. The one thing all of these emotions have in common is that they are all born of fear. Fear that there is not enough.
Taking part in this lila or play, is part of being human and it extends to all parts of the human’s relational realm. By removing one large part of my relational existence I was able to become more attuned to my wants, but more importantly I discovered the self-empowerment that comes with relinquishing them and becoming sensitive to that which I need. I realized that I had everything that I needed and with that balance restored I experienced a new, purer kind of energy. For one week I listened especially carefully to my body and responded by resting at the appropriate times and giving myself the right amount of sleep.
By day seven of my cleanse I sensed that my body had completed the detoxification that it needed and I was ready to recommence eating but with more mindfulness and more intimate knowledge of the delicate balance of my bodimind. I am also more comfortable witha hunger pang and less apt to enter into irritable dialogue with it. Overall I feel my edges more clearly defined – by that I mean that the process which informs my body is no longer chaotic like a the uncontrolled scribbling of a child, but deft, balanced and clear more like a practised etching. I feel more clarity of being.
The axiom to which we always return in Hatha yoga, is that we are perfect and complete just as we are. We need add nothing, nor take anything away as we are naturally ebbing, flowing tides of consciousness. Through these glimpses of limitless abundance, we hope to learn the way to freedom – without crutches.
Although I completed my experiment unharmed and feeling wonderful, I would not recommend the Master Cleanse nor would I repeat the experience. There are other, less harsh ways to cleanse and feel wonderful!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
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