Dan's Papers - October 13, 2006 - Inspirations by Emily J. Weitz

I have always had the philosophy that life is so short, we need to suck the juice out of it. We need to soak up every sweet morsel, even if it leaves us chewing on some bitters in the process, because if we leave that sweetness untapped, moments upon moments will be wasted.

This is how I choose to live, because I don't want to look back on my days with an ounce of regret. And this philosophy has furnished a delectable life thus far, one that I have thoroughly appreciated. Those who have been reading this column for some time know that the majority of the topics I cover relate directly to this philosophy, be it an article about the benefits of yoga, the power of herbs, or the sweetness of a deep breath. They all share this same fullness, this same surrender to the entirety of the moment.

But there are times when this philosophy may become burdensome, when life gets so challenging that you really do need a vacation from reality. It is not healthy to dwell in such phases. But sometimes, you have no choice but to get through them. In these hard times, I recommend the breathing, I recommend the herbs, I recommend the yoga. And you know what else can really lift you up on those difficult, dark afternoons? Bad TV.

I know you're thinking, "this is completely contradictory to all the healthy, fortifying activities that this column usually encourages," and you're right. It is. But another thing that is essential to healthy living is balance. And if you don't balance your high quality, moment-soaking activities with a couple of frivolous endeavors, you may get burned out on goodness. Now it's one thing to pour your brain and your emotions into some fictional character's drama if the show is well-written and the characters complicated. It is quite another to sit down and burn up your moments when you're watching some trashy show. However, there is something to be said for the absolute "tuning out" that occurs over a bad show on the Soap Network.

My guilty pleasure, which lay dormant for so long before reruns hit the airwaves, is "Beverly Hills, 90210." The saga of Brenda and Dylan, the arrival of Valerie, the ups and downs of David-they have me completely enthralled. And while I am ashamed to profess my love for these shallow characters, I have to say that there is some comfort when, coming home from a hard day's work, you can tune out for a little while and watch something really bad. Not something that you kind of relate to your life. Not something that teaches you lessons that you can apply to your days. I mean straight-up, dirty, wasteful trash.

I am not saying that this is the most productive way to spend your moments. Lying silently on the floor with the lights out and your knees pulled up to your chest would be more restorative. But I find that, along with my yoga and my detoxifying teas, along with my strolls through the park and the furious activity of my pen, I sometimes need something really stupid in which to indulge.

Perhaps I am just rationalizing the fact that I watched "90210" three times this week, and I know more about Kelly Taylor's love life than I do about my own. But I will tell you that when I got home from a long day, and I realized I had missed the last yoga class of the evening, I reluctantly flipped on the television. When I heard that cheesy saxophone rhythm that signals the beginning of another hour-long reprieve from reality, I was unabashedly excited. And I slipped on the banana peel of bad drama, and slid into an abyss of unreality. When I emerged, I felt like I had just returned from a vacation from myself.