Moderation

When I think of moderation I often think of conformity. I think of social acceptance, safety, and barriers.

I don’t particularly like moderation in a number of instances because moderation is often predictable. It is often an expectation. It is is supposed to be routine.

Driving a car is moderation. It is the expected form of daily transport. It is sitting and parking, obeying and paying. It is a blast of air conditioning that alleviates the natural elements. It is a sedentary act, and we often prefer sedentary acts to strenuous activities such as cycling.

Casual daily walks are moderation. They quickly become one’s expected number of daily steps. They are a counter, a means of getting blood flowing. I find this dull. I’d rather run or hike up a mountain. I’d rather injure myself on a longboard. I’d rather go unconscious from overdoing a bike ride.

Pop music is moderation. Pop music is lyrics deemed safe by a label and melodies deemed catchy by a producer. Pop music is numbness to counter the blandness of most routine activities. One doesn’t listen to pop music so much as one uses it to distract from one’s own boring act, whether it be a boring exercise or a boring job. Pop music is often edgy enough to be sensual but not so edgy as to be transgressive. It is “safe sensuality.” Why play it safe?

That said, there are certain habits that I must moderate, particularly as I get older. Sleep, for example, is becoming more important for my mental acuity and wellbeing. My body also does not process alcohol as well as it did ten years ago.

But an overabundance of anything can be detrimental. Our bodies are mostly water. We are literally walking oceans. And yet even too much water can kill.

Likewise, a life stuck in moderation can kill the soul.