I'm not sure it's appropriate to be counting down on the fast, but I can't help it. In truth I don't do this all the time, but there are days when I can't but help check exactly where we are up to. Early today, when I conceived this entry walking around an examination hall invigilating, I thought I'd be recording how the fast was now relatively routine in contrast to the early days of struggle. Usefully I found myself not enjoying the later part of the afternoon at all.
I say 'usefully' because the difficulty of the experience is the whole point: in a world which teaches us to avoid struggle the fast slaps you in the face with it. That's why the protracted nature of the fast is so perfect. A few days are manageable, but a month is going to throw days at you like today. On the other hand, it's only a month - you're not expected to become a saint.
Anyway, the curtains are soon coming down, the twinkling lights will go up, the bottles will come out for the biscuits, and cooking smells will pervade the apartment all round the clock. Goody!
No comments:
Post a Comment