As far as I can tell, there are at least 3 problems with forbidden fruit. At least.
1. It is forbidden. As in: you can’t have it. Ever.
2. There is probably a reason it is forbidden.
3. There is a possibility (probability?) that the only reason you want it is that you can’t have it. Please see #1.
There is this whole issue with resolving this, too. Really what we want, in most cases of Forbidden Fruit Syndrome (hereafter referred to as FFS in the interest accommodating my typing laziness), is imaginary. How can we know that we want a fruit that is forbidden? The only reason I want forbidden fruit more than, say, the really great ripe peach sitting right in front of me is because of the mystery.
I believe that mystery is at the heart of FFS allure. Because the whole thing about forbidden fruit is that you don’t know what it tastes like. By definition. It is not only forbidden, but because it is forbidden, always has been, and always will be, it is also unknown. And therefore mysterious. And therefore alluring. Mysterious forbidden fruit: MFF.
I’d post a picture, but it’s so Mysterious and Forbidden that I don’t even know what it looks like.
MFF always leaves one vulnerable to the development of FFS. Because it’s the mystery….how can one satisfactorily choose what is definite over what is indefinite? If you want to satisfy yourself that the peach is what’s best for you, you really have to taste the MFF. Otherwise, how can you be confident that the peach is what you want?
Actually you know what? That’s not really the problem. The real problem is after FFS has already taken hold. Once FFS has set in, you’re in trouble. And that poor peach is just going to rot on your plate while you agonize over what to eat. Poor little peach.
Because you’re staring at this peach, and it’s like the peach only reminds you that it is not the MFF. That is the only significance of the peach. The peach is a state of not-having, not-eating. Meanwhile, you don’t even know what the MFF tastes like. For all you know, it is worse than dry cat food and will give you a stomach ache for days. For all you know, it’s poisonous. But you don’t know and it’s killing you. You can’t rest until you know. And it’s MFF, so guess what? You’ll never know.
It’s a scary, crazy downward spiral, letmetellyouwhat.
So here’s my question: what if you know you have to eat the peach? What if the peach is a pressing matter, and the unblemished state of the available fruit basically means that somebody’s gotta eat it, and that somebody’s going to be you, but you’ve got FFS, and you’ve got it bad?
What’s the cure?
My approach has always been to inform myself as much as possible about the MFF, whatever it is, until I can really hang my hat on something I don’t like. It’s got that ugly green spot there. I hate green fruits. But what if it can’t be done? What if the available time and resources aren’t sufficient for information-gathering? When the choice is: X or Not X, but I’ve convinced myself that that means: (not the MFF) or (a miracle could still get you the MFF). How do I untranslate that?
I think at times I make choices that I feel are between two things, but in reality are not. In reality, I’m only deciding whether or not I want one thing. I can’t want the thing too too much, because of course I want something else. But the something else is a non-issue. I just make it into one. Because I like to make life difficult for myself like that.
Ay me. Infected hours seem long.
