Self-Control

If there is one thing I am lacking, it is self-control. I have an addictive personality. I watch one television show and I am hooked and end up renting every season of the show ever and watching them late into the night. I crave weird food like sushi all the time, and if I have one bite, I want a thousand more. Then I want rice because there was rice on the sushi. Then I want pasta because in some twisted way rice reminds me of pasta. Then I want garlic bread because that goes well with pasta. If I have a long phone conversation with a friend from home, I start wondering about another friend, and before you know it I have been on the phone for several hours with several different people. And I love to talk. And I love being around friends. I love making connections.

So, because I can’t seem to wrap my head around being separated from people, or being unable to talk to others, or to build tangible connections and relationships, I am curious about monks and nuns that live in monasteries. I am curious how they have the strength to denounce worldly pursuits, passions and possessions. Maybe, it is because I have never been very religious, and I have had an entirely different experience from them, that makes it so hard for me to comprehend their life. Even so, I can’t imagine giving up a life of freedom (at least what I consider to be my freedom), even if it was in the name of something I loved dearly. I admire their self-control , the intensity of their love.

I stayed in a Monastery in Venice, Italy as a student ambassador and every hour of the day was a quiet hour. If we wanted to talk, we had to go out into the courtyard. Even at mealtimes, we were completely silent. Obviously, this was difficult for a group of rowdy high school students from across the country. I remember feeling guilty whispering to my roommate late at night. I remember wearing thick sweaters to cover my skin even in the summer heat so that I wouldn’t offend anyone, and I remember the hum of their prayers. I’m not entirely sure why they allowed us to stay with them, but I wish I could have asked them why they decided to leave everything behind. If there had been some extraordinary experience that had changed their life so entirely.

I find their ability to control their passions, their desires, their needs so entirely, to be fascinating and admirable. But mostly, I think, I admire their silence. Silence, for me, would be the most difficult thing to accept. I know that their self-control comes from a place buried deep within, and I wish, just for a moment, I could see it and understand it, so that maybe, I could implement some self-control in my own life.