Now there are two kinds of
training, one which is appropriate for the soul alone, and the other which is
common to both soul and body. We use the training common to both when we
discipline ourselves to cold, heat, thirst, hunger, meager rations,
hard beds, avoidance of pleasures, and patience under suffering.
For by these things and others
like them the body is strengthened and becomes capable of enduring hardship,
sturdy and ready for any task; the soul too is strengthened since it is trained
for courage by patience under hardship and for self-control by abstinence from
pleasures.
Far too
often they tell my to fix my head, or to fix my body, but they will rarely tell
me to improve both together.
I once
had a coach who told me that the way to run my best mile was just to constantly
run; he never once suggested how my thinking could help me to do that.
I once
had a confessor who told that the way to avoid lust was just to think about
pure thoughts; he never once suggested how taming my own passions could
help me to do that.
I have
also had doctors of both sorts. Some insist that I must eat well, or take a brisk
walk every day, or consume my pills as prescribed, and then everything will be
fine. Others insist that I will be cured by having a better attitude, or by looking
at the bright side, or by wishing wellness for myself. Both are right broadly, while
both are also wrong narrowly. I will rarely find anyone telling me to do both.
For all
the ways we publicly preach a holistic sense of the person, we are still
remarkably dualist in our attitudes. Put the mind over here, and put the body
over there. It took me many years to bring them together, having somehow forgotten
that they were made to be as one.
When working
in social services, I have seen two major school of how to deal with addicts. One
crowd says they are ready for further treatment only when they have an
awareness of hitting rock bottom, of knowing the waste in their lives. The
other crowd says they are ready for further treatment only when they have gone
through a sufficient detox, when the drugs have been flushed from their
systems.
I found
myself confused. “Don’t they need both before they can get better?”
“Don’t
be an idiot. We get them into rehab however we can. We fill the beds.”
“Do we
help them in rehab if they aren’t ready?”
“Shut up
and process the files.”
The
virtue of temperance, of a mastery over my desires, is a perfect example of
this struggle. I can make all sorts of decisions about putting my life back
into my own control, but that alone doesn’t work. I can also physically steel
myself to temptations, but that alone doesn’t work. No, the former must rule
the latter. The change comes from all of it, not from a part of it.
A
discipline of both mind and body are necessary to tame the beast. Stop thinking
filthy thoughts, and at the same time stop being affected by filthy things.
Mental habits are joined to physical habits.
The
virtue of fortitude, of a mastery over my own fear, is a very close second. I
can be quite brave in my intentions, but that alone doesn’t work. I can also
physically make myself strong, but that alone doesn’t work. No, the former must
rule the latter. The change comes from all of it, not from a part of it.
A
discipline of both mind and body are necessary to no longer be a coward. Stop
thinking about the weight of the hurt, and at the same time stop feeling the
hurt to begin with. Mental habits are joined to physical habits.
Even the
virtues of prudence and justice require the value of action to go with the
value of principle. There will no understanding without a discipline of the
senses. There will be no fairness without a discipline of the hands. Mental
habits require physical habits.
Our
family regularly jokes about our “First World problems”, yet it is hardly a
joke. How often has my mind given way to a hardship, simply because my body is
not accustomed to the suffering? How often have the habits of my soul been weakened
by the habits of my flesh?
“I’m
starving!” No, I am not starving at all. I may feel hunger, but I am not
starving.
“I’m
dying of thirst!” No, I am not dying of thirst. I may feel thirsty, but I am
not dying.
“I can’t
resist her!” Of course I can resist her. I may feel longing, but I still have
my judgment.
Train
the body to bear something, and this will help the mind and the will to bear
something. Is it hot? Is it cold? First accustom the hands to both fire and
ice, and the soul will find it so much easier.
Written in 7/1999
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