Someone supposedly wise once said “Everything in moderation”, but I’m not so sure that’s true.
I can think of a few things that are really not good…even in moderation. Umm herpes, for one. Then there’s murder, cancer, clowns, licking the sidewalk, drinking gasoline, hotdogs (personal) and let’s not forget a little thing called JNCO’s. If I had a time machine I would immediately go back and tell my 7th grade self that those things were a terrible idea…even if they matched my super sweet blue jersey pullover.
I went through this really cool stage where I ate the same portions as a 7-year old. It was great. It wasn’t something I tried to do. It just happened. I ate until I was full…and that happened to come after three bites. Sadly, my self-restraint is lacking and due to my obsession with food, I managed to screw that up. I have major issues with portion control.
I eat rather healthy. Random, but healthy. Tonight I had an apple with peanut butter, some pita chips and hummus, and a bowl of cereal. Snack, snack….and breakfast. I don’t know. It sounded tasty. The list sounds really healthy and quite light, but when you realize I had 234 pita chips it begins to be indulgent.
There is this really stupid trend in America where everything is oversized: chairs big enough for a family of four, plates the size of a small country, and bowls that can comfortably hold a baby. In a world where California Kings and super-sizing reign supreme, it’s no wonder we are programmed to think we need to eat 3.6 pounds of steak to constitute a full meal.
I just learned this neat trick. Instead of using my vat of a cereal bowl for my Cheerios, I eat it out of a glass. So maybe this trick was learned out of necessity because all of my bowls are buried somewhere beneath the mountain of dishes in my sink, but regardless it helps control the number of tasty little o’s that find their way into my diet.
I fool myself into thinking that because WHAT I’m eating is healthy the HOW MUCH I’m eating is irrelevant. Granted, it’s better than stuffing my face with 97 chicken nuggets, but the point remains that the mantra of everything in moderation is woefully wrong.
In Corinthians it says that ‘everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial’, just because we can do it, doesn’t mean that it is going to be good….or even remotely worth it.
My desire for power is a vice I struggle with daily. Call it a product of the Fall or my competitive nature, the fact remains that I identify strongly with a Machiavellian society. My soul cries out against it, but my nature argues that the end does, in fact, justify the means.
Portion control is sadly, not a concept contained only to our food consumption. Our nature pushes us to do more, achieve more, attain more, be more, but when do the urgings of society stop being motivating and become destructive?
In this do-er world that I live in, I find myself relishing in the newfound responsibilities of adulthood. I am truly the king (or queen as it were) of my domain. My decisions? Selfish. My plans? Selfish. My motivations? Selfish. Without the accountability of another life attached to your destination, it is easy to lose yourself in the ease of solitude.
I can be completely career driven. I can plan every hour to satisfy the whims of my mood. Anything truly is permissible, but the falsehood of this freedom, if allowed to go unchecked, can lead to the harsh reality of a selfish solitude rather than the selfless community we were called to. Like my cereal, I need to practice strict portion control on my pride.
