Omit to Commit Research: Parallels of Physical and Spiritual Nourishment

Omit to Commit is all about the resources needed to opt in (and out) of behaviors, such as time, traditions (individual or group behaviors), trust, and treasures. By regularly making and breaking habits, life becomes more fulfilling and satisfying.

Welcome to the first (of 12) examinations of organizational and individual behavior changes. I’m writing a book, called Omit to Commit, and on the 20^th of every month in 2023, I’m sharing research on my blog. My first Omit to Commit post below is focused on nourishment and nutrition, from food, drink, and spiritual practices. I connect sustenance and spirituality, in practices like Lent, Ramadan, Dry January, and gym membership. If you have thoughts about these practices, please leave a comment, fill out this form about making and breaking habits, and/or share with your networks, linking back to this very post. Much of my research is from primary sources, but I am currently crowdsourcing experiences. I may go back to school to study organizations, information, and/or social sciences in an academic setting and get this research out into the world!

Nourishment, from spiritual or physical, is the foundation of many human organizations. Eating and drinking are a critical need to sustain life. Naturally, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs includes physiological welfare at the base, and regular eating is a fundamental human right. Spiritual nourishment is a process, and most likely belongs in the middle of Maslow’s pyramid in “love and belonging”, as this section is all about connections. It makes sense that many people seek spiritual nourishment through the fellowship of a church body or other organization. What I’m curious about is the cultural trends of opting in AND out of nourishment, in environments like churches and gyms, and how individuals within organizations participate, such as practicing religion, going vegan, or becoming a bodybuilder.

Let’s start with opting out of foods in short-term settings, such as fasting.

Fasting, or temporarily choosing to omit certain food, is common throughout world religions. Hippocrates, the father of medicine, was an advocate for fasting, and this was in the 5^th century! But in religious practices, fasting is often used to recommit to faith. In Islam, for example, fasting helps guard against evil. Ramadan provides a set-time of about a month for Muslims to fast. Lent, likewise, is a way to practice fasting in Christianity and Catholicism, in a shorter time of 40 days, not including Sundays (is this why Easter’s on a different date every year?). Individuals within the organization set goals to temporarily remove vices, whether it’s omitting certain foods, drinks, or even other external behaviors, such as cutting swears from one’s vocabulary.

Fasting/omitting food is practiced in both Judaism and Islam. The 10 Commandments are just one source of opting in and out of lifestyle choices. In Judaism, there are 613 commands, the Mitzvot, as part of the Levital Law. Leviticus inspires more than Jews; Muslims follow Levital Law, too. This law requires the removal of eating unclean animals, in favor of cleansing practices. Passover in the Torah literally meant Egyptians slaughtered a perfect lamb and poured its blood over one’s door, to protect the house in the hope of God “passing over” the house and not killing anyone. Honoring sacrifice, trust, and remembrance, Jews still practice (celebrate?) Passover today. For some Jews, eating Kosher helps recognize the Levital Law. Similarly, Ramadan is one way for Muslims to recognize this law from Leviticus. Shadia is the Muslim Passover, a massive undertaking with feasting, praying, and sharing of Moses’ story. If you’re Jewish or Muslim, I’d love to see your thoughts. Do you practice eating Kosher? Do Jews and Muslims support one another in these dietary choices? How do your environments and relationships influence your nutrition and nourishment?

This practice of temporary omission in faith circles is an attempt to instead commit to stillness or a higher power. Prayer and petition are other practices to reinforce introspection, reflection, and perhaps even spirituality. I wonder, do members recognize this as a contemplation between greater culture and the subculture and/or an inner work between one’s ego, id, and superego? Do fasting and celebrations inspire a personal or social look at one’s relationship to a higher power?

Externally, do organization members hold one another accountable? In faith-based organizations, I see a trend of an authority figure leading the way, claiming to model behaviors like fasting and “giving up” something for a set time, such as the Christian Lent and Muslim Ramadan, and encouraging their members to also choose a temporary omission. Metaphors abound for comparing spiritual nourishment to sustenance: The Bible calls Jesus, “the bread of life” as the source of body and blood on the cross and later bread and wine in church. He becomes the sacrificial lamb. And what or who are members committing to instead? Perhaps organization members commit to help one another, while (re)committing to their God.

Ethics codes abound throughout religions, especially behaviors related to eating and drinking.

In Hinduism, the cow is sacred. For some Hindus, it is formally sacrificed and offered up to the gods. Hindus plea to Varuna, protecter of order, to pardon still-unknown sins. Meanwhile, Buddhists work to cut off sensory experiences, to rise above humans’ senses of taste and smell. Taoism focuses on nonaction, a complete omission. This is in the hope of leaving no room for expectations or anticipations; instead, harmony and simplicity remain.

Supports in the form of fellow believers and leaders seem crucial to help organization members maintain these omitting behaviors. Belief systems are personal, as well as culturally influenced, so externally finding an organization to belong to requires an internal commitment of faith, as well as external practice of these traditions and ethics, in and out of religious or spiritual settings. That’s a mighty order, one of personal and public change. Therefore, smaller groups exist within many of these spiritual organizations, too. Members may hold one another accountable to forge a sense of community, participating in prayer groups, book clubs, youth/singles/parent/senior groups, and volunteer associations.

Other examples of removing food sources exist beyond the spiritual, such as modern diet culture.

Diet culture is pervasive in the Western world and can be problematic in its privileges. Diets often temporarily require people to opt out of macronutrients, usually carbs or fats, and then they’re slowly worked back into their regime. Culturally, diets cycle, with different names and similar goals. Oversimplifying, today’s Keto looks like yesterday’s Atkins, in the hope of removing carbs. And yet the short-term personal benefits, usually gaining muscle and/or losing weight, is one reason why these diets remain. These individual values can be reinforced by societal gains, such as relationship building.

Bodybuilders in particular remove fats, at least for a short while. If you were or are a bodybuilder, I’d love to hear your motivations. In some undergraduate research with the amazing Dr. David Hutson in Sociology of the Body, I remember studying impression management in bodybuilders. Fit-appearing bodies are in abundance in the gym, and this pursuit of (the look of) health can lead to a fit life. And I’m not just writing about when bodybuilders are measured and examined on the stage/scale. Consistently grinding at the gym, combined with an abundance of whole foods, staying hydrated with water, and learning to rest is a seemingly simple formula to maintain a healthy lifestyle. It’s a privilege to work toward all of these nutritional goals, but it’s a more consistent strategy than cutting carbs or making formulas for how many “points” a piece of food is “worth.” Food is food, and therefore energy, why do diets in particular moralize it?

Folks with fit-appearing bodies sometimes gain moral or social capital, too. Their look of (sometimes extreme) fitness can act as a catalyst for additional feedback. Their bodies may forge a sense of belonging or, conversely, otherness. There’s a reason gym “rats” may feel a sense of shared community at the gym: They’re individually and collectively in a quest for 6+ packs. And it’s a feedback loop, too, if one’s constantly pursuing fitness, along with balanced nutrition, the behaviors often lead to change in one’s appearance. This body (and sometimes even facial) change can lead to interpersonal change, such as the sense of belonging to a smaller community within the gym. But is working to the extreme sustainable in the long-term? Do you cycle through extremes? You are what you make time for, so if you regularly hit the gym as an athlete, let me know. If you’re a bodybuilder, do you practice omitting/committing? Do you feel like you belong to a counterculture or a smaller culture within the gym? I’d love some feedback.

As an endurance runner myself, over the last few months, I have eased into a plant-based lifestyle, with 80% of my diet currently coming from vegan sources. There are challenges to joining this group of veg “heads”, but with time and support, it’s getting easier. Protein from non-animal sources is more accessible, thanks in part to moving from Wisconsin to Colorado. (Goodbye, dairy state!) Moving to a home with folks who also value a plants-based lifestyle is a privilege, as well as my ability to move my legs across long distances, but that’s a story for another time. Environment matters much in making decisions to opt in and out of behaviors.

I too have access to research-backed information, a privilege that further fuels my body and brain. Just check out the stack of books I’m reading; it’s in the featured image of this post! In my quest for how to transition to more whole foods while still being an endurance athlete AND self-proclaimed allergy kid, I discovered my penchant for grazing is common (and supported!) by science. This is especially supported for soon-to-be herbivores like me. Eating about 6 times throughout the day is key for me. Smaller “meals” keep me balanced and nourished, with my diet calculating about 60% carbs, 20% fats, and 20% protein. Each body (and brain!) is different. With access to filtered water, whole foods, and labels/nutrition facts, I try to opt out of artificial sugar, am learning to curb my caffeine consumption with weekend/noon boundaries, and even have opted out of alcohol this month, in another cultural trend, Dry January. Happily, I don’t miss beer. My waist and wallet especially don’t miss shots.

Vegans opt out of all animal products, including perhaps lesser-recognized animal byproducts, like honey. In my experience, vegans can be stigmatized for opting out of meat, some have had the Bible quoted at them as evidence to eat meat, despite fasting, Lent, and the Commandments as reasons to not eat animals. And yet, there are many reasons for veganism, whether it’s one’s health, the planetary benefit, believing animals as life (not meat), or the sense of belonging to a specific group. Is this why everyone knows if someone’s a vegan? I’m curious about this sense of belonging: If you are a vegan, can you share some thoughts? I’d love to hear some qualitative examples of why you have opted out of this very common practice of eating dairy, eggs, meat, and the like.

Dry January fascinates me.

Participating in 31 days of no alcohol and/or other drugs hinges on another Western trend of setting resolutions for the upcoming year. I have written extensively on habits and goals throughout this website since its 2019 launch, but I haven’t done much research on Dry January yet. I think the short-term commitment of opting out of something, especially one as pervasive and sometimes problematic as alcohol, keeps people interested in this trend.

Personally, the absence of alcohol feels great: My short- and long-term memory is sharp, and I’m making more connections in my research (hopefully, it shows in this and other posts!) Socially, those feelings of joy may change. A native Wisconsinite and now Coloradan, alcohol plays a big part in both of these economies, and therefore there are bars, arenas, and even churches with beverages. It’s an everyday experience to find the option to drink in seemingly unexpected places, like beer at children’s birthday parties, wine at churches, and energy drink/vodka shots at bowling alleys.

Other “opting out” behaviors in both the religious and health spheres include smoking (or depending on one’s perspective, this could be opting to smoke to curb hunger) and reducing alcohol consumption. Do cultures have replacement habit suggestions, such as one’s decision to stop (or even start) smoking? Or are individuals not too concerned about these cultural vices? Perhaps this varies by individual.

What influences these organizations to be maintained? Do individuals recognize that they are opting in and out of certain behaviors? How do environments, such as one’s home, gym, church, impact one’s sense of culture, community, and identity? What group(s) do you belong to? Please share in the comments or fill out my form on habits here. And last, what organizations and/or behaviors shall I research, compare, and contrast for my February 20^th post? I’ll continue sharing Omit to Commit research every month, as it’s not only potential book material, this info fuels my curiosity. I believe we’re all figuring out how to live in tandem with our individual values and social organizations, so I’d love to see what you think. Just start with a comment!