Self-Denial in an age of Indulgence, Part 2

Yesterday I wrote about this diet that my wife and I are on and the benefit of self-denial. The first practical benefit is that we find out if we can actually live without something, particularly if that thing is either a luxury item, or potentially harmful. I'm mostly thinking about food here, but it applies across the board. I've known people who have given up Facebook because, let's face it, you don't HAVE to use Facebook. They just wanted to know if they COULD give it up if they wanted to.

So here's the second tip/benefit of self-denial.

Self-denial allows us to get to the bottom of a (bad) habit

The second practical benefit of self-denial though is that it can allow us to get to the bottom of a bad habit. It's not so much about the habit, it's about the why behind the habit. Why do you reach for the chips or the cookies? Why do you drink forty-seven cups of coffee a day? Why do you "need" that glass of wine at night?

It happened to me this past week two nights in a row. The first was on Sunday as I was coming home from a long day. I realized, even before the day was over, that I usually ended my Sunday night with a beer or glass of wine. I knew that I better have a replacement something available to me that I could look forward to, otherwise my night was about to suck. I picked up a couple of nice steaks instead and made a delish meal for my wife and I. Problem solved.

The next day, Monday, I had a late meeting. Typically I'd come home and have a beer to wind down, but that was a no go. I opted instead for my stand in, a seltzer with just a splash of orange juice. This is my go-to drink of choice when I'm off the beer/wine train. (There are a few stations where I normally hop on that train. After a long day. After a meeting. After the kids go to bed. Basically the train comes to the station around 8:00 at night, most nights.) Once again, problem solved.

The diet that we are on, however, suggests that you don't just "replace" a habit, because it tricks your mind into thinking that the habit was okay. For example, if you normally put sugar in your coffee, it's not a good idea just to switch to Splenda. The "elimination" portion of the diet we are on is intended to get you off of sugar–which it may have done, if you switched to an artificial sweetener–but since your coffee still tastes the same (or slightly worse), as soon as you get through the 30-day elimination period, you will almost certainly switch back to sugar. Same goes with something like pancakes. If you trick yourself into thinking that pancakes are okay just because you make them with mashed oats and bananas, as soon as you can have a real pancake again, you are going to do it, and forget that you ever made that crapcake to begin with.

I was concerned that I had just switched one "bad habit" for another on both nights. The first night, it was rewarding myself with food. That can be a dangerous game! The second night, it was rewarding myself, or calming down after a meeting, with a beverage. If I let myself think that those were proper rewards, was I just going to jump back on the beer/wine train as soon as the elimination period was over?

I don't know the answer to that. I don't necessarily think that the habit itself was bad. It did, however, lead me to reflect on the reason, or reasons, that I often used beer/wine/food (insert your thing here) as a reward after a meeting or a long day. Not all of the reasons are negative. For one, I enjoy it. I like a good glass of wine or a delicious treat or a tasty beer. I have a selection of frozen mugs in my freezer that are always on call, waiting for the perfect pour. That first sip of beer, when the mug is still freezing cold and the beer is freshly poured...there's nothing like it. But I digress. The point is that there is nothing wrong with doing something that you enjoy as a reward, assuming that thing is not inherently dangerous to you. Another reason is that it typically leads to relaxation. Nothing wrong with that. That was the point.

The bigger question was, why beer/wine, specifically? One reason was that it was a quick solution to the problem of anxiety (at least in the moment). My wife asked me a few years ago, somewhat rhetorically, if I realized how much I used the phrase "hurry up" when talking to her or the kids. I started taking note of it and realized that even while we were on vacation my basic premise was "hurry up and relax". If you had offered me a whip to get my family out of the house faster as we were trying to get to the beach, I probably would have taken it and used it. I'd push the family out of the house, stressing everyone out, just so we could get to the beach and...sit there and relax. Well, beer/wine can help you "hurry up and relax". And while I don't have a problem with that in theory, it's a pretty short ride from consistently using beer/wine as a means to "hurry up and relax" to depending on beer/wine for relaxation. Again, you can apply that to any habit, not just drinking.

The second reason, though, was that beer/wine helps dull the mind or change your focus. Any type of sugar does the same thing. It's a mood-altering thing. Which begs the question–why do you have to change your mood? What's bothering you?

It's one thing to say, "well, I had a long day and I'd like to have a drink to take my mind off of it." Hey, I get it. Not only do I get it, I'll pour you another one. Some days life just knocks you over, and worse, it's usually things you love that are the catalyst. Your kids annoy the living bejeezus out of you and you just need a drink (insert cookie, or Facebook, or video games, or whatever) to "gladden your heart", as the Psalmist says. (Psalm 104:15). Your job is intense. Your friends are going through a tough time. Whatever it is.

But what if "normal overwhelming" isn't actually normal at all? What if your life, for whatever reason, is just plain overwhelming? What if you are overwhelmed because you are in the wrong spot, or you have a "flat tire" somewhere in your life that needs to be fixed, or there is a relationship that needs addressing, or there is something in your life that is trying to get your attention, but instead of listening to it, you are just dulling it's voice? How would you know?

Self-denial gives you the chance to discover the "why" behind the "what". Maybe your habit, or your go-to relaxation thing, isn't bad at all. Or maybe you discover that it's just masking something that should be addressed. But how would you know, unless you denied yourself for a season just to reflect on it?

Just something to think about while you are pouring yourself another seltzer and OJ. 

Self-Denial in an age of Indulgence, Part 1

Last week I got tricked into doing a diet for lent. My wife suggested that we go on the diet together, and I was more than happy to comply. Thirty days of eliminating some bad stuff that we don't need. I'm all in. It wasn't until after we started that she gave me the spin:

Hey, since we started on the first day of Lent, we can just do this until Easter!

So instead of 30 days, now it's 40. Oh–and today I remembered that Lent is actually 46 days, plus Easter, because Sunday's aren't counted as part of the 40. And worst of all, if we fail, we're failing Jesus. Great. Just great.

The problem with this "elimination" diet, where you remove all of the stuff in your diet that the dietician you've chosen as your guru tells you is junk is not just that you realize all the garbage you've been eating, but you realize all the garbage that you could eat, if you really wanted to. And not because you'd fall off the wagon and go on a bender at the grocery store. You'd just need to open your pantry or your fridge. It's all right there. The garbage is around you all the time. You're surrounded by all this stuff, and unless you make a conscious decision to turn away from it, you're going to embrace it.

Participating in some form of Lenten self-denial, even if it was accidental, has made me realize how easy it is for me to indulge in basically anything that I want to indulge in, and not just that, but how often I actually do it. Food, stuff, entertainment. Whatever it is. When I want it, I can get it. That's the age we live in. And unless I'm making a conscious decision to turn away from all the things I could indulge in, I embrace it.

I'm not sure I have any sure-fire solutions to this problem, but over the next few days I'm going to offer some suggestions that we have been trying. I realize this is sort of like asking someone for some advice on dealing with suffering while they're in the midst of it, or asking someone the best way to parent when their kids are still toddlers. Everyone thinks they know the best solution when they're in the middle of it, but they don't really know until they're through it. It's usually better to ask them how they dealt with suffering once it's over and they're still mentally healthy, or to ask a parent how they did it when they're kids are functioning adults.

So maybe this is more for me than you. Either way, time will tell. So here's the first suggestion:

Give self-denial a try.

I hate this. Period. But the truth is that until you deny yourself something, you don't really know whether you could live without it, especially if it's a luxury item.

That glass (or three) of wine every day? You know you could give it up. You just don't want to. I get it. Me neither. But how do you actually know you could give it up? How do you know that you haven't become dependent on it, even if only emotionally? I'm all in on the daily glass of wine (or daily cookie or whatever your comfort food choice is) but if you never deny yourself, you'll never know if it's controlling you or you are controlling it.

I read a super-convicting statement before we went on this diet, that said something like this: no one forces you to cheat on your diet. A glass of wine doesn't magically appear. You don't accidentally have a piece of cake. No one forces you to eat unhealthy. It's your choice. Which means, you can take control, and stop being controlled by your circumstances.

Yes, we live in a world that encourages me to indulge in everything I want, when I want it. But I don't have to. That's my choice, and I want to own it.

But I hate it. Which, ironically, is exactly the reason I need to do it from time to time.