Fasting? Here? Now?

Dearest Rachel –

Between the cooking and baking and the occasional restaurant visit we’ve made while on the islands, we’ve already built up a considerable stockpile of leftovers on this trip. Combine this with the fact that I packed more than what Daniel and I would have normally eaten on our own throughout a typical week (or more than we would have eaten at home, in any event, since we would have probably gone out and picked something up several times, an option we don’t really have out here), because we were expecting to need to provide a certain amount for our guests that never joined us, and as you would sing to us (in the voice of Cinderella as depicted in Into the Woods) “♪♫we have far too MUCH food.♩♬” It doesn’t help that I would rather take back as little of it as possible, especially the stuff that would need to be kept cold.

But for whatever reason, it would seem that Daniel has chosen Tuesday to fast and meditate, and is sticking to that schedule, even while we’re here on the island, and have so much to finish up.

Granted, it’s not so much that I can’t try to hoover up some of these leftovers in the meantime, but a little help would be appreciated. Besides, with all this, I’m definitely going to have to forego making the chicken adobo I’d planned to; then again, I’d brought ingredients to feed half a dozen of us, so it’s not like the two of us would have been able to finish it. Best to leave everything in their original containers, and bring them home to work with later – assuming I can convince everyone to come over for it at some point.

As much as his choices catch me off guard, and by doing so slightly irritate me, I wonder if this isn’t his way of dealing with the situation that I simply won’t, don’t or can’t.  For me, fasting is simply a way to consume fewer calories and thereby lose weight (as I still need to do); whenever I try to do so in an effort toward spirituality, all I can manage to focus on is what I wish I were eating, and what I might do when I finally end this fast.  In short, I don’t wind up thinking much about God at all.

But for him, who has no need to lose weight, and thereby receives no physical benefit from doing so, there seems to be a spiritual benefit he derives from it that I can’t fathom.  He never used to do this when you were alive that I recall – much like the fact that the ‘prophetic’ streamers he listens (and of which I don’t approve; in my estimation, the prophets were the means by which the scriptural canon were inspired.  Now that the Word is with us, there is no more need for them; indeed, anyone claiming to be a part of that august fraternity had better have a 100% accurate track record to back their claim up, and the ‘prophecies’ they make about the political realm belie that) to are a new aspect of his life routine.  Maybe it’s his way of processing his grief, much as I try to reach you through these words.  Since he can’t explain it to me, I’ll never know – or at least, I may just not be able to understand.

Still, I’m willing to let him do what he feels he needs to – what am I going to do about it, cram the food down his throat? – while I go my own way at the same time.  If we deal with this matter, each in our own way, we both get some benefit.  If we tried to do this together, we’d get in each other’s way, and neither of us would find the benefit we seek.

For what it’s worth, here’s what I did while he was out at the general store, listening to his latest stream:

There’s something about this place that, while it doesn’t change much from year to year, over time, nature takes over and claims it as its own.  It’s sad to see your memories subsumed like this, but I suppose that, in a way, it beats having them razed to the ground and paved over with condominiums or something like that.

There’s more to talk to you about, honey, but I think I’m going to put that in another letter entirely.  So I’ll talk to you soon.  Until then, keep an eye on us, and wish us luck; we’re going to need it.