I sit here, drinking my green juice in the afternoon of my fast day on a knife edge. I stand on a razor thin edge looking at two radically different valleys. In one, I stop my fast and head up to the bakery and get whatever I want and eat it. I then head home and have whatever I want for dinner. This valley looks good. It’s very easy, and comfortable. The other valley consists of finishing the fast and going back to the old diet tomorrow. It is a harsh valley. It is fairly barren, lifeless. But underneath the dry plains is the promise of endless riches.
The trip down to the second valley is long and winds down a path atop a large cliff. If at any point I get tired and misstep, my destination is sealed. The easy valley is called that for a reason. It is very easy. And once you start down that road it is hard to end up anywhere else.
I sit here on this edge. I have often thought I was here before, but secretly been on the harder path. But today I genuinely could go either way. And in truth I don’t mind. Maybe that is why this time is different. I wouldn’t even feel guilty. I feel at piece with life.