I have a sweet tooth. Implicitly usually I am most looking forward to evening time after dinner when I can have dessert. Ice cream. Or cake. Some pie. Or chocolate. If I don’t have it, I feel like a soccer ball deflating. As if the telos for the day has been frustrated. When I skip having dessert for a day or two, I get antsy, easily annoyed, irritable. The usual withdrawal symptoms of any addictions.
I am going to try something for the next month. I will give up sweets. No chocolate. No donuts put out in the kitchen in the office. No after dinner ice cream.
One motivation is to improve my health. With the imminent arrival of my baby girl, I would like to take better care of myself. I even went to the doctor for the first time in many years for a physical, something I have avoided due to an anxiety I seem to have acquired from a childhood trauma of when my father had a heart attack. When I told the doctor of my impending parenthood, she nodded understandingly, indicating that it was common for parents to be to acquire new motivation to be healthier.
Another motivation is spiritual. Since I was in college, I have had, I now see, a very intellectual and abstract sense of philosophy and spirituality. As if these were mainly mental activities – something I strive for with my mind, far removed from how I take care of my body or cultivate habits of life. This was my attitude even when I was writing my PhD on embodied cognition and the essentially bodily nature of human consciousness.
This was of course reenforced by academic philosophy. Many of my colleagues took better care of themselves physically than I did. Running, biking, hiking, going to gym. But naturally all this physical activity was seen as outside the domain of philosophy. A life style choice matter but far removed from the work of thinking about the nature of consciousness or justice.
Certainly philosophy arguments don’t turn on the physical health of the people debating. But is being a reflective person improved by one’s ability to with stand addictions such as eating sweets?
I think so.
Now I am thinking that if I can control my urges and not give into my physical cravings, then it will improve not just my health, but also my ability to think more clearly. That the urges for sweets is like a covering over my eyes which makes me see the world through a kind of haze. No different in principle than if I were addicted to alcohol, drugs or sex.
This is of course an ancient idea: resisting the body, indeed even starving it a little, is a way to heighten one’s higher mental states. I think this is right.
For too long I have thought just with my mind. Now I want to think with my whole being, including my body. To enable that, I have to take better care of my body and take care of how I treat it.
What will my awareness be like if I can resist sweets for a month? I intend to find out.