David White, MD
The late Anthony Bourdain was known as the “original bad boy chef.” This was by no means an accusation, but rather an exalted title. In the wake of Anthony’s suicide, filmmaker Lori Silverbush wrote that this celebrated “bad boy” title was meant to elevate “a lusty defiance of social norms in service to bottomless appetites of great talent.” Anthony was our globetrotting friend of tremendous fame and wealth who allowed us to vicariously live life on the edge, enjoying the best food, drink and sites the world has to offer…in excess, with impunity. Now that’s the life!
But Lori goes on to offer an appeal regarding this “bad boy” lifestyle, writing “How about we all agree to start calling it what’s it is: unresolved pain.” She noted that, “Anthony Bourdain was the first to call out the bacchanalian (riotously drunken) oblivion of his past as an escape from darker, sadder truths hidden within the folds of his complex psychology.”
Masking Pain with Pleasure
Why is it that we imagine that Tony and others who live in abundance and excess are living the dream life? The truth is that while we may not have access to opulent delights, we have experienced pleasure enough to know how it soothes our own pains. Twenty years of practice as an emergency physician, tending to tens of thousands of patients, has taught me that there is commonality among all regarding hopes, disappointments, love, loneliness, and fear. I have also become more acquainted with and honest about my own fears, hurts and disappointments. These are feelings that seem to visit us in the quietness of the day, when we are alone with ourselves. The darkness and quietness of the night can be most cruel; a time where there are no competing sights, sounds, voices, or sensations. Just our own voice, or perhaps the voices of others that we have invited to speak into our souls. Voices that speak lies and truth; both hurt.
What is also common is our desire and relentless effort to assuage these negative feelings. We do this by either filling the quiet voids with stimulation or busyness, or we blunt the negative feelings directly with pleasure. I was recently confronted with my own propensity to do so. Several months ago I participated in a 30 day “clean eating” month which included the elimination of pleasure inducing processed foods such as refined flours and sugars along with gluten and dairy, but also the more habitual delights of coffee and alcohol.
Fully Experiencing My Thoughts and Emotions
The impact was nearly immediate; I was sleeping better, my energy was increased, my workouts more effective and I just generally felt great. But then I noticed something odd. Towards the end of the first week I began to feel a bit depressed in the evenings. It seemed to worsen heading into day 10 where I felt a blend of depression, angst, and stress every evening. Then it occurred to me that since eliminating my evening glass (or 2) of wine or beer, I was left with “myself”. I was left with my thoughts and my real and honest feelings with absolute clarity. Yes, there was the sweetness of being with my wife in the quietness of our now empty-nested home, but there was also the swirl of stress, angst, and sadness that oozes out of the real tensions that life brings. I realized that I had long left unattended things that needed care, thought, conversation, and counsel. I had to admit that there was a clear medicinal component to my enjoyment of beer and wine.
This is clearly not to say that we should not enjoy the multitude of elements and experiences that God intended for our pleasure… food, drink, relationship, sex, recreation, entertainment and work, among others. But it is also true that we should examine ourselves carefully as to our motive and intent. Are you covering feelings and emotions that while uncomfortable, are necessary and important elements of living? If acknowledged, they can lead us towards identifying where we have fallen ill emotionally or physically. They can also serve as guides towards restoration, healing and growth. If ignored they can erode our hearts and relationships like an invasive toxin.
Choosing Real Life Over Altered Experiences
So where do you go? Is it that “one more drink” of alcohol that quiets and soothes the mind? Is it shopping, which offers the excitement of having that something new, enhancing your identity just enough— for now? Is it Netflix bingeing which allows for an escape into another life or story, perhaps safely living out your own emotions through a character? Is it pornography, which invites you into intimacy without risk or judgement? Or is it online gaming where you can build your own virtual reality, taking on any identity you choose, conquering or relating to others without risk or obligation?
Can “real life” possibly compete with these altered experiences? If the measure of life is limited to the avoidance of discomfort, then I would say no. Sadly, this is the lie that media and culture would have you believe. One of our deepest desires at Aspire is to connect people to the purpose and quality that life inherently holds. While the actual expressions of purpose and quality vary greatly between individuals, what is common among all is that it can only be achieved when living in an honest acknowledgement of life’s ever-changing currents of joy, peace, adventure, love, loneliness, boredom, conflict, and sadness. Anything else is an eroding facade. Dare to live a life of purpose and quality.
