Tyranny. Such an ugly, offensive, and depressing word and circumstance. Those living under the rule of a tyrant instinctively know, even if they are unwilling or unable to articulate it, that the lack of freedom violates a deeply-rooted, God-given sense of personal identity- as a son or daughter of a Heavenly Father learning and growing through choices made and consequences endured.
I, too, know somewhat, on a much more trivial, yet just as real level, of living under the rule of tyrants. Up until recently, I was trapped, existing day-to-day under the brutal rule of food- the tyranny of buffets.
I’ve already told the riveting tale of life’s circumstances that brought me under the despotic rule of as much food as I can eat here. For many years I barely knew that salad bars, General Tsao’s chicken, and Brazilian steakhouses were in charge- even worse, at times I was proudly happy with this arrangement. Our family had a wise saying that addressed this situation- we call it “eating yourself into a coma.” For one who puts “food” and “eating” (not cooking) on his hierarchal list of favorite hobbies, doing anything other than my best in the quest to quench an appetite was unthinkable.
Freedom can be exhilarating; especially freedom from diarrhea, flatulence able to separate wallpaper from walls, and worry about culinary consumption-induced comas. I now routinely forgo quantity for quality. A new smorgasbord of gastronomic options is available. Choice has replaced a diabolical, driven dedication to consume mass quantities.
My new life has begun.
And it is good.