I can't even count the number of times I've obliterated my diet

Hear now the words of Rachel Hollis, who speaks with the clarity of one who has journeyed the difficult path of discipline and temptation: "I can't even count the number of times I've obliterated my diet with a binge session. One second, I'm floating along just fine, four days into a successful low-carb lifestyle. The next? I'm standing alone in a dark kitchen, eating a sleeve of Ritz crackers and cream cheese with a spoon." These words reflect a profound truth, a truth that many of us know too well—the battle between our desires and the discipline we seek to impose upon ourselves. It is the eternal struggle of control versus temptation, the challenge of maintaining balance in the face of overwhelming cravings.

In the ancient world, great warriors and philosophers alike understood that the path to virtue is not a smooth road. Socrates, perhaps the wisest of them all, spoke often of the struggle between the rational mind and the passions of the body. He knew that to live a virtuous life was to master these passions, but he also understood the difficulty of this task. Just as Rachel Hollis describes the ease with which one can slip from control into indulgence, Socrates taught that human beings are often swept away by their desires, whether those desires are for food, wealth, or power. It is not the falling into temptation that defines us, but how we rise from it, how we learn to navigate the inner battles of the soul.

Reflect upon the story of Alexander the Great, a man whose conquests were not limited to vast lands but to his own desires. Though he led an army that marched with remarkable discipline and strength, Alexander himself was known to indulge in feasts that were both lavish and excessive. His bingeing on food and drink became a symbol of the excesses of power. Yet, even Alexander, despite his greatness, was not immune to the inner battles that Rachel Hollis speaks of. Just as Alexander struggled to balance his needs and desires, we too struggle against the tides of indulgence, trying to control our impulses while also embracing the fleeting joys that come with them.

In the case of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher, we see another lesson. He wrote extensively about the importance of discipline and the need to control the desires of the body, yet he also understood that to fight these desires was not always a battle won in a single moment. In his meditations, he often acknowledged the difficulty of living in accordance with virtue, the challenge of maintaining self-control while facing the allure of pleasure. Marcus, despite his philosophical teachings, would have understood the experience of Rachel Hollis—the moment when control slips away, and we are left standing alone with our weaknesses. The key, Marcus teaches us, is not in the perfection of the journey, but in the resolve to continue after the fall.

In our own time, we often look at those who have mastered their diets or their health routines and feel a sense of failure when we inevitably slip. The challenge is not only in the discipline required to stick to a plan, but in the understanding that we are human—that we are fallible, that we binge, that we struggle, and that perfection is not the goal. Rachel Hollis’s story resonates with all of us, for we have all stood in that dark kitchen, feeling like we have undone everything we’ve worked for. Yet the lesson lies not in the binge, but in the ability to rise, to recognize that one misstep does not define us, but gives us the opportunity to learn and grow stronger.

Consider the teachings of Buddha, who spoke of the nature of desire and the middle path. Buddha did not teach us to reject pleasure altogether, nor to indulge in excess, but to find a balance that allows us to live harmoniously. Just as Rachel Hollis describes the fall from discipline, Buddha would have urged us to recognize that the path to enlightenment is not through the denial of desire, but through the understanding and moderation of it. The key to true peace, Buddha teaches, is not in the suppression of cravings, but in the wise management of them, in the awareness that desires are fleeting and do not define our worth.

So, O future generations, take this wisdom to heart: you will falter, you will binge, and you will struggle. But in those moments, remember that humility and growth come not from avoiding failure, but from learning how to rise after it. Understand that a life of discipline is not defined by perfection, but by the strength of your resolve, the grace with which you face your missteps, and the lessons you draw from them. Dieting is not a battle to be won in a single moment but a lifelong practice, a dance between control and indulgence. And in this dance, we find our true strength—not in the absence of desire, but in the ability to rise, to forgive ourselves, and to continue forward with greater wisdom and balance.