This post has remained in drafts for four years. We wrote it in one go while we were under the “curfew” imposed by our government’s measures due to the pandemic. We didn’t publish it then because nervousness and social tension were flaring up everywhere and spilling onto social media. It would have been like speaking into the wind, or worse, adding fuel to the fire.

At the time, there was a secret hope that an event of such magnitude, so impactful on everyone’s lives, would allow us to take a step forward. Small things, of course… A little more personal hygiene. A little more attention during convalescence. A little more solidarity, if not fraternity.

What has happened from 2021 to today tells a different story. It speaks of a world that is even more fragmented and even less capable of addressing the complexity of real problems in an organic way.

Those who, in the face of the pandemic’s tsunami, took refuge in conspiracy theories -imagining graphene, nanochips, and similar things in vaccines to make sense of it all- are now, in the face of war’s brutality, cheering for foreign leaders who openly trade economic interests and territorial annexations in exchange for yet another injustice labeled as peace.

Nor are things better for the equally insecure hyper-justicialists who, back then, would have gladly put on trial anyone who delayed or refused to get vaccinated. In the name of a security they evidently cannot provide for themselves, they too often follow that cyclical chimera that History repeatedly tells-the farce of the strongman (or strong government).

One way or another, the effects of the crisis are evident, and they are not just economic, though those are severe and largely irreversible. Individualism has sharpened, and any form of dialogue has nearly disappeared, leaving room only for an extremely polarized assertiveness -one that aims not to argue one’s own point of view but to deem the other’s incorrect, if not outright illicit. In this context, violent forms of private justice emerge, while at the institutional level, authoritarianism and unilateralism take root- neither of which belong in democratic life but, as History teaches us, inevitably open the way for chapters we’ve already read and studied, ones we will unfortunately have to revisit soon.

This is why we believe these words remain relevant today. Enjoy reading.

With the ritual of ashes, today marks the beginning of the forty-day period leading up to Easter.

The saying goes, “As long as Lent.” A year ago, as the Covid-19 emergency began to reveal the fragility of our social systems, the start of Lent coincided with the end of regular training sessions in the Dojo.

Rewinding the tape, each of us can compare the “before” to this long “during” and take stock.

It’s obvious that most of the sacrifices over the past twelve months were forced by the situation, if not outright imposed—by law, by a lack of alternatives, by the surrounding social and economic conditions. Sometimes, these sacrifices have been permanent: faces and voices we will not see or hear again, jobs and activities erased.

So, let’s take this date as an opportunity for a secular reflection on the concepts of fasting, abstinence, and almsgiving—the three traditional practices of this period.

No moralizing, no annoyingly comforting intent. No magic formulas like: “Since you had to stay home, turn this forced abstinence into something meaningful.”

Just a few words, spoken calmly.

Fasting and abstinence are related but not identical. In a strictly dietary sense, completely refraining from consuming food is what we properly call fasting. Eating while carefully avoiding certain foods is what we mean by abstinence.

Looking at fasting and abstinence from another perspective, we see that both share certain characteristics:

• Even in their most extreme form, they have a beginning and an end (even the strictest fast eventually concludes, sometimes definitively).
• Those who practice them do so driven by motivations of strengthening and purification—by the need for greater mental, spiritual, or physical discipline.
• Generally, regardless of cultural and spiritual background, those who experience fasting and abstinence discover tools to counteract their own ego (selfishness) while simultaneously opening themselves to the needs of others.

This last point connects to the concept of “almsgiving.” The materialist society we live in has distorted the meaning of this word. Very little remains of its original sense as “an act driven by compassion” in the hurriedly given money (whether little or much) we hand out to “the poor.” Often, we hope there is always someone else to take care of the problem—because we “pay” for it.

But almsgiving is something more. It is the culmination of a growth process fueled by fasting, strengthened by sacrifices that slowly chip away at the selfishness within us, allowing our hearts to feel “pity,” to live with and alongside others.

Now, let’s turn our attention to the small yet significant storm that has upended the plans and routines of those who worked, practiced, and found joy on a tatami.

The prevailing emotions are anger, helplessness, and disillusionment—hardly “compassion.” Not only for those who had to give up their Tuesday and Thursday night routine but, above all, for those who dedicated their lives to becoming teachers who rely on “contact activities” for their livelihood.

However…

We are students of conflict. And under normal conditions, we all agree in defining Martial Arts as a tool to combat our own selfishness. We also rather enjoy talking about “letting go” and similar concepts.

Is there an aspect of our practice that doesn’t depend on external impositions but rather on us?

Perhaps there is: let’s look at the quality of our relationships—with our training partners, with our sensei.

Have we been able to express, towards ourselves and towards them, the ability to “co-suffer”? To truly share this moment, sometimes stepping outside ourselves to meet others’ needs—whether for less loneliness or some other kind of support?

Have others been able to do the same for us?

Or is there still a need for fasting?

Disclaimer: Picture by Volodymyr Hryshchenko from Unsplash