THE BODY IN FLOW ■ 115foods of Venice, they learn what kind of sausage goes best with polenta,
and what kind of shrimp is the best substitute for scampi.
Like all other sources of flow related to bodily skills—like sport,
sex, and aesthetic visual experiences—the cultivation of taste only leads
to enjoyment if one takes control of the activity. As long as one strives
to become a gourmet or a connoisseur of wines because it is the “in”
thing to do, striving to master an externally imposed challenge, then
taste may easily turn sour. But a cultivated palate provides many oppor
tunities for flow if one approaches eating—and cooking—in a spirit of
adventure and curiosity, exploring the potentials of food for the sake of
the experience rather than as a showcase for one’s expertise.
The other danger in becoming involved with culinary delights—
and here again the parallels with sex are obvious—is that they can
become addictive. It is not by chance that gluttony and lechery were
included among the seven deadly sins. The fathers of the Church well
understood that infatuation with the pleasures of the flesh could easily
drain psychic energy away from other goals. The Puritans’ mistrust of
enjoyment is grounded in the reasonable fear that given a taste of what
they are genetically programmed to desire, people will want more of it,
and will take time away from the necessary routines of everyday life in
order to satisfy their craving.
But repression is not the way to virtue. When people restrain
themselves out of fear, their lives are by necessity diminished. They
become rigid and defensive, and their self stops growing. Only through
freely chosen discipline can life be enjoyed, and still kept within the
bounds of reason. If a person learns to control his instinctual desires,
not because he has to, but because he wants to, he can enjoy himself
without becoming addicted. A fanatical devotee of food is just as boring
to himself and to others as the ascetic who refuses to indulge his taste.
Between these two extremes, there is quite a bit of room for improving
the quality of life.
In the metaphorical language of several religions, the body is
called the “temple of God,” or the “vessel of God,” imagery to which
even an atheist should be able to relate. The integrated cells and organs
that make up the human organism are an instrument that allows us to
get in touch with the rest of the universe. The body is like a probe full
of sensitive devices that tries to obtain what information it can from the
awesome reaches of space. It is through the body that we are related to
one another and to the rest of the world. While this connection itself
may be quite obvious, what we tend to forget is how enjoyable it can