The first thing I did was give up sweet tea because I drank so

In the ever-turning wheel of life, where we strive for balance between the body, the mind, and the spirit, there are moments of awakening that stir us to action. Paula Deen, with her characteristic honesty, speaks of such a moment when she says, “The first thing I did was give up sweet tea because I drank so much. I'd start drinking at lunchtime and wouldn't set it down until I went to bed. When you calculate how much empty calories and how much sugar I was consuming, it was staggering. So I haven't had a glass of sweet tea in three years.” In these words, there is a deep and powerful lesson about the dangers of excess, the importance of awareness, and the transformation that comes from making intentional choices for our health and well-being.

The ancients understood well the cost of indulgence and excess. In the Greek tradition, Socrates often spoke of the importance of moderation in all things. He believed that true wisdom came not from accumulation, but from the control of desires—ensuring that one did not become enslaved by the fleeting pleasures of the body. To give up sweet tea—a seemingly innocent pleasure—was a decision of great wisdom. In choosing to forgo that which provided immediate pleasure but served no true nourishing purpose, Deen mirrors the ancient wisdom of those who controlled their appetites in service of a greater good. Just as the Greeks valued the pursuit of the mind and soul above the indulgence of the senses, so too does Deen’s choice reflect the value of discipline over comfort.

The Romans, too, understood the dangers of indulgence. Cato the Elder, who was famed for his stoic virtue, warned against the pleasures that could lead to decay. He believed in living a life of simplicity, seeing luxury as a weakness that would ultimately diminish one's strength and purpose. To indulge in excess, as Deen describes in her own battle with sweet tea, is to invite imbalance into one's life—a small indulgence here and there, repeated and unchecked, eventually consumes not just the body but the soul. The Roman example teaches us that a life of virtue and purpose cannot be sustained when indulgence becomes habitual, as it weakens the spirit and dulls the mind.

The lesson that Deen imparts is not just about giving up sweet tea, but about the power of awareness in our choices. When we examine the calories and sugar in the foods and drinks we consume, as Deen did with her own indulgence, we see the truth of the matter: small actions, repeated over time, can accumulate into something far greater, often at the cost of our health. The ancient philosophers understood that our habits shape our destiny, and by choosing what we consume wisely, we shape our bodies and minds for the better. Just as the Romans trained their bodies for battle with moderation, we too must train our minds to see the consequences of unchecked indulgence and make decisions that serve our greater health and well-being.

Consider the example of Alexander the Great, whose conquests were powered not just by military might, but by the discipline of his soldiers, whose training and diet were designed to maintain their strength and endurance. Their focus was on simple, sustaining foods that would nourish them for the long journey ahead—not on indulgences that would slow them down. Alexander himself, despite his great power, understood that a life of excess, whether in food or drink, would ultimately hinder his ability to achieve greatness. In this way, Deen’s choice to give up sweet tea becomes a metaphor for the larger struggle between the fleeting satisfaction of indulgence and the lasting rewards of self-control and discipline.

In the Eastern tradition, particularly among the Stoics, there is a similar focus on self-mastery and moderation. Epictetus, one of the great Stoic philosophers, taught that the only true freedom comes from mastery over one’s desires. He believed that to indulge in excess is to be enslaved by the very pleasures that promise comfort. Deen’s decision to relinquish sweet tea, despite its comforting allure, is an act of freedom, as she chooses to free herself from the chains of habitual indulgence. This aligns with the Stoic ideal that true strength lies not in the indulgence of the senses, but in the strength to choose what is best for the body and mind.

The power in Deen’s words is clear: self-awareness and discipline are the true foundations of health and vitality. By recognizing the harmful effects of her habits, Deen chose to make a change—one that required not just physical effort, but mental clarity and resolve. The ancient wisdom that moderation is key to strength and well-being still holds true today. Let her example remind us that it is the small decisions we make each day, whether in what we eat, drink, or do, that ultimately shape the lives we lead. True health comes not from fleeting indulgences, but from the consistent, mindful choices we make in service to our bodies and minds.

So, as you move forward in your own journey, remember the lessons of Deen and the ancients: examine your habits with awareness, choose with intention, and remember that true strength lies not in what we desire in the moment, but in the discipline we employ to achieve a life of lasting vitality. Let go of the small indulgences that weigh you down, and embrace the clarity and strength that come from moderation. In this way, you will walk a path of purpose, building a foundation of health, wisdom, and balance for the future.