Well, yesterday I stopped fasting. I wrote up a nice, little entry attempting to explain exactly why I decided to do that... but I apparently didn't save the entry properly. I am very sorry I unknowingly left you un-updated on a day that turned out to be rather significant.
Here's what you missed:
I was sitting around after school, hungrier than I had ever been in my entire life (I hadn't eaten any of my rations since around 11 am) and with a really weird sort of stomach ache (I had been eating only grains.) I was tired and irritated. My planned group of fellow fasters had ceased to exist. I didn't feel as though I was accomplishing anything.
So I had a peach smoothie, and it was the best peach smoothie I ever tasted. And I later paid for that fine, fruity concotion with the guilt that I experienced.
I had given up, and for no clear reasons. I told myself that I was weak and that I had abandoned the people of Darfur. I was convinced that the days I did manage to get through were rendered meaningless by the failed ones.
After mulling over the entire situation with a more rational perspective that only a full stomach and some good rest can bring, I realize that my fast, though abbreviated, is not without its lessons.
First of all, I was hungry enough in my four days to come as close to starvation as I had ever been. This hunger definitely helped me to gain empathy for not just the people of Darfur, but starving people all over the world. In case you have never suffered from it beyond its initial phases of faint stomach growlings and slight headaches, let me tell you about: it is miserable. It distracts you so that you can hardly manage to do anything productive other than sleep. Even if you aren't experiencing its most obvious symptom of deep stomach pain, you tend to feel sluggish and foggy-- all of this assuming you react to hunger the way I did, of course.
It is because of that feeling that I will never again complain that I'm starving if I have to skip a meal. I will never again tell my mother that we have nothing to eat when the kitchen is full of perfectly good food. I will never again throw away food.
In addition to picking up some of the lessons that I had planned on learning, I gleaned some unexpected ones.
I have learned that it is not possible to truly further the goals of a cause until you truly, thoroughly invest yourself in it. Being possessed by that quintessentially youthful tendency toward activism is not enough.
Similarly, true dedication to a cause means that you are willing to give everything possible to fight for it, especially when you know that your attempts may be futile. If something is truly important, you should feel compelled to act, regardless of the level of response. Be idealistic about the change you can bring about, but do not underestimate the amount of work it will take to do so.
And finally--this one will seem so obvious, even cliched, that it should have occurred to me before, but it didn't--you can't stop fighting for something just because you are alone. You just won't get anything done if you wait around for other people to join you.
Oh, and should your activism involve fasting... stay hydrated.
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