Fasting from television

Have you ever fasted from watching television? Mike and I have been doing that this week. We actually fasted from TV last summer after we got back from a vacation to the mountains where we stayed in a bed & breakfast with no television in the room. We got back and realized we didn't miss the TV, so we kept it off for a few weeks.

This fast has been more purposeful and a little bit harder -- one, because it's the middle of winter and there's not much to do, particularly in the evening hours between dusk and bedtime, and two, because it's something we've purposed to do. The last TV fast seemed more accidental.

We're fasting for a couple of different reasons:

1) We think it's good to do some kind of fast periodically (not just during Lent when most people think of fasting), whether from food or television or drinking soda or whatever. Sometimes we're so focused on "feeding our flesh," if you will, that we don't realize we don't actually NEED this stuff like we think we do.

2) Fasting clears our heads and helps us focus on what's most important, particularly listening to the voice of God. It's amazing how many voices vie for our attention in our media-driven culture.

The quiet of no television has been wonderful. It's hard to get used to at first -- so often I turn on the TV for noise -- but after a while it's a welcome change. Mike and I have been reading more. In fact, we've both almost finished a book each in a few days. Meals seem less hurried and more intentional. I feel less hurried and more relaxed. We didn't rule out the Internet or radio for this fast, so we're still getting our news and some entertainment. (I actually prefer to get my news from the newspaper or Internet anyway. To me it's like eating a well-cooked meal at home that you can digest more easily. Television news is like fast food -- quick, not much worth chewing on, and it leaves you hungry for something more.)

The most interesting thing I've noticed this week has been the absence of advertising from my life. Sure, I still hear ads on the radio or see them in the newspaper or on the Internet, but they're not the same as television advertising. The consumerism on TV seems intrusive now that I've been away from it for a while, but then again no one is holding a gun to my head forcing me to watch TV. I've never really understood why people complain so much about what's on TV, yet they won't turn it off, as if they have no choice about it. There is an OFF button.

The most amazing thing of the past few days is feeling more in tune to God's voice. No television gives me time to think more, time to pray more, time to process more. When that instinct kicks in to reach for the remote control (and believe me, that instinct has kicked in several times a day), I pause and think, "Nope, I'm not going to turn that TV on." It makes me think about why we decided to turn off the TV in the first place. It seems painful for a while -- after all, fasting of any kind is not supposed to be painless -- but then I just put it out of my mind and set myself to doing other things.

I'm not sure how long our fast will last. We didn't put a time limit on it. But the more time we go without TV, the easier it gets. And the more we realize there's not much worth watching anyway. It's more habit than anything else.

Ahhhh. . . . that peace and quiet, the absence of the noise and talking heads of our culture, sure sound wonderful.

The freedom of a "bluebird" day

Today was a perfect "bluebird" day in the mountains, as skiers and snowboarders like to call the clear-blue-sky days we often get here in Colorado. This was my second day skiing this season -- I went to Copper Mountain last Thursday and Winter Park today. Both days were great, and the best part is I'm not nearly as sore as I usually am after my first couple of days skiing each season. I credit the weight training I added to my workouts last summer -- nothing fancy, but the twice-a-week sessions working out my arms and legs do have some benefit.

At the encouragement of my husband, I got smarter about skiing last year and bought a season pass. Daily lift tickets at most Colorado resorts are now more than $80. (When I first started skiing at age 9, an adult daily lift ticket was about $25. Amazing.) So why not shell out a few hundred dollars before the season ever starts and go as many times as you want? Some people don't see the benefit to this for the ski resorts. Why even offer season passes when you could force people to pay $80 at the ticket window each day? Because ski resorts are not making their money off lift tickets, despite the ever-rising prices. The money is all in real estate (i.e. lodging), and the more times they can get people up to ski, the more likely it is they'll stay the night . . . and of course bring their friends/family and spend other money as well.

Anyway, a season pass is a great benefit for the skier. I'm not sure why I never considered it before. I blame my former inability to manage money very well, and therefore the mentality I'd never be able to afford a season pass. The season pass enables me to ski any day I choose, and if the weather turns out to be horrible, oh well. I can come back another day. I don't have to get up at the crack of dawn to get all my money's worth out of an $80 lift ticket. I can show up at mid-day and ski a few hours.

Today I skied nearly a full day. My husband doesn't ski. He wants to learn, but wintertime is crazy with his basketball play-by-play schedule. I have only a few friends who ski. I grew up skiing with my brothers and dad. My brothers moved to the Midwest, and my dad's hip bothers him now, so I mostly ski alone. I actually don't mind it, although some people look at me like I'm crazy to drive two hours to the mountains alone, followed by a day of skiing all by myself.

To be honest, I prefer the alone days. When you've skied most of your life, it isn't that difficult or weird. I feel so comfortable skiing, it's almost like coming home. And a day alone on the slopes is much safer than hiking alone. There are so many people around you, and half the time you end up riding the lift with someone else and striking up a conversation, so you really do share the experience with others.

Besides, I tend to be pretty independent up there. I like to skip lunch -- I find I don't get that hungry skiing, strangely enough -- and I usually ski one run after another without stopping. It's one of the only things I do in which I feel truly free -- free to clear my head of all my worries, free to be just who I am. It's just me and Jesus up there, floating across the snow, breathing in the fresh air, thinking about nothing much in particular except how glorious a Colorado "bluebird" day is.