Candy

I sure love junk food. Fried pies, ice cream, and tres leches cake top my list. Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears, and peach rings are right there, too.

I love the taste of candy. Well, I love it at first. The more I eat, the less I appreciate the taste. Maybe it is just the ritual of more, more, more.

Going to the store and buying a bag of candy is exciting. I love seeing all the options. The options have increased, but it seems all candy is sour, and all chips are spicy. There is a bouquet of candy smell as the bag is torn open.

That first piece of candy is incredible. It has a strong, sweet flavor. The second one is good but less. The flavor continues downward until there is almost no taste.

After I eat more than I actually want, I feel blah. I get a slow and crummy feeling—lethargic. My stomach doesn’t hurt, but there is discomfort. The unpleasantness is heavy enough to forget all about the first few incredible bites.

On the other hand, I do not enjoy eating healthily at all. It just isn’t fun. But when I do, I feel great. It resets my steady state, and I am energized. The sluggishness passes, and I have a lighter overall feeling.

I don’t want constraints on my food. I have the freedom to choose what I want to eat. But that choice, that freedom to eat junk food, quickly becomes a prison. The very thing that made the promise of happiness, I have to chase again and again. Each time, it’s more empty than the last. The real freedom is in the discipline of avoiding it.

What other empty promises do I keep doubling down on, hoping to get a satisfaction that it cannot provide? Where is the less exciting initial choice, the better, more liberating outcome? Can I be disciplined enough to be free?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.