[Fasts have long been a part of contemplative tradition. Monastics abstain from food to achieve greater clarity, embodiment, and spiritual vision. They change your physical reality, which in turn affects your emotional and spiritual realities. Indeed, the whole reason we do them is to bring about personal transformation. This series of blog posts—”Beer Fast”—documents the experiences of a pair of Artmonks as they undergo one western monastic fasting practice: consuming nothing but beer and water. With that in mind, these entries are raw, containing a higher-than-usual dose of intimate reflections.]
Closing in on the end! Video blog tells the story.
In case the video isn’t your thing: Last night I dreamt that I broke the fast. I dreamt that I was with all my Artmonks and folks who have attended Artmonk Retreats and we were having a party at Phoebe and Nathan’s house. I was walking along the buffet of items brought in potluck and someone I didn’t know pointed out this pastry that she had made (maybe she was Italian?) — filo dough wrapped around brie or some such irresistible cheese. It was a flaky, oily, delicious mess. I forgot that I was fasting, and ate the pastry, complementing her skills while munching. I was about three bites from finishing the indulgence when I realized what I was doing. Then — here’s the really bad part — I pretended to not remember while I gobbled down the last bits, licking my fingers to finish it off. I then ran off to find Liz and to confess my lapse in memory and then judgement. Everybody laughed and joked about it and the next day I returned to the fast.
In my partially awake state this morning, when I thought the dream was reality, I was regretful and disappointed in myself. When I fully awoke, I was psyched and relieved. Clean slate! It was only my subconscious that cheated! Yesssss.