Fasting My Way to Balance

Eric Urban used the flare-up of a severe skin condition to jumpstart an exploration into the practice of fasting. The experiment demanded discipline, patience, and perseverance. In return, it offered Eric deeper insights into the nature of his own body, his mind, and our socioeconomic systems. Not to mention, helping alleviate his skin condition.

Back in February of 2025, I had a random and severe eczema flare up. My skin was red, dry and cracked, and everyone around me was very concerned. 

Instead of going to see a doctor like a responsible adult, I decided to deal with it myself. 

What I learned from the experience fundamentally changed how I relate to food.

Eric, Meet Eric

At that time, I conducted some rabbit hole research on foods that cause inflammation and decided that a drastic change to my diet was worth a shot – but I would have to go all out. 

Between itches, my resolve to cut any and every potential aggravator, no matter how difficult, was strong. 

The list of foods to avoid grew to include red meat, wheat, dairy, sugar, tree nuts, nightshades (tomato, eggplant, bell pepper, etc.), citrus, spicy foods, and fried foods. 

And just for fun, or maybe because the challenge felt incomplete, I added my beloved peanut butter to the list as well.

I wanted to see if there was a natural solution to my problem. 

And I was also looking forward to the challenge of learning how to make wholesome, plant-based meals for myself – I had a fierce determination to test my discipline and fight against the ease of accepting the average American diet that features so many inflammatory foods.

Off with the burning desire to battle Babylon, I stuck it out.

The month was not easy. Outside it was cold, and inside my body, due to my calorie deficit, it was also very, very cold. 

I often had low energy and was irritable. I would spend many mornings scrambling around my kitchen to make a bland and unsatisfying breakfast. 

At work, after a long shift of being on my feet, I would scour the break room for anything that I could eat before my cold, dark bike ride back home. There was usually nothing there; sometimes, if I got lucky, there would be some plain rice and lettuce. 

And on top of all of that, my body was still covered in red, irritated skin. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t as interested in hearing my co-workers’ romantic problems.

The days passed slowly, and my body’s reactions to how and what I consumed started to reveal themselves the more I went along. There is a sort of clarity that comes with fasting. 

I felt how red meat actually made me more impulsive, and at times, aggressive. The first time I heard someone say that, I thought it was hippy dippy nonsense, but then I started to experience it. I would be more curt with customers. I would even become more frustrated and snappy at friends.

I felt how overloading my body with carbs, even ancient grains like quinoa or kasha, made my mind feel foggy. 

I felt how, after a certain quantity of fatty foods, like my beloved peanut butter, my thoughts and movements were slower and more sluggish. This made my bike rides more strenuous and difficult (I still can’t believe the love of my life could betray me like that).

Recently, I had a soda for the first time in a long time and I felt completely dazed, like I had given myself a chemical concussion. 

The way I ate food also became important. 

If I had a nutritious meal, but had to frantically scarf it down before work, I would feel bloated. If I was anxious and nervously snacking, even if I was snacking on fruits and veggies, I would still feel bad. 

A monk once told me that our emotions impact our digestion much more than we would like to believe. He also said the act of cooking prepares the body for the meal it is about to consume. I could start to see the truths in what he said.

Take the time to cook, and do it well. Sit down to enjoy this home cooked meal, either by yourself or with loved ones. And try not to invite any annoying guests – they might disrupt digestion.

I learned that timing is also a meaningful factor. 

The body is not ready for exertion at the start of the day, it is just trying to get its bearings – so why shovel down hundreds of calories right off the bat? 

Once I noticed the way my body would slowly gear up in the morning, I found it better to start the day with mindful reflections like meditating or journaling and then some light exercise like a walk around the neighborhood. 

I also stopped eating right before bed – I started to suspect that was a factor impacting the quality of my sleep.

Slowly, the way I related to food grew in its depth. 

Eating for the Mind

While growing up I always felt like there were seven degrees of separation between me and food. 

I didn’t know where it came from, how it was grown, how one thing could be prepared in various ways, or how it could effect me.

I used to just eat to eat. Because I desired some sort of experience. Or I was bored. Or I needed something to numb me. 

I certainly would never listen to when my body wanted food. I would eat for my mind, not for my stomach. 

Food was entertainment, food was a distraction.

I think my perspective on just how alienated I was from my food first started to take shape when I traveled around Europe in the Spring of 2024. It’s all bread, cheese and cigarettes over there, yet you still see more healthy and active old people.

Exploring the grocery stores there – in my opinion, the most fascinating part of travel – gave me a sense of how people thought about and respected food. 

Generally, European grocery stores had less packaged and processed food. There was less aggressive marketing everywhere to convince you to buy those foods. Simple and fresh foods were also relatively cheap, pointing to an underlying belief that healthy and wholesome foods should be available to all. 

“Bread is for the people” is what the Portuguese woman working at a bakery in Porto told me.

Meanwhile, Americans pay a premium for “organic” food. Aisles are lined with colorful packaged snacks that have been chemically manipulated to stimulate us and create addiction. 

As the City of San Francisco claims in its lawsuit against eleven of the top food companies, American corporations sell ultra-processed food knowing it is detrimental to our health.

Setting the downsides of the food industry aside, even culturally, the way we think about eating as a sort of experience – sometimes exotic, sometimes a way to learn something new, sometimes a thrill (like proving we can handle spice) – has made it a vice.

As I mature and learn more about myself, I find that food is perhaps my strongest vice.

I love to try new foods, I love that experience – but at the end of the day, it is a distraction from wherever else our mind could be focused. The need we feel for the experience is an illusion. 

When I travel or stumble upon some new food, I do not eat it because I’m hungry, I eat it simply to try it. I’m eating for the mind.

In a way, when I’m in that insensitive mindset, I’m no different from the greedy business tycoon archetype so many like to rail against. I push the planet towards exhaustion for my mindless little wants. We all do. 

We end up abusing the systems we rely on when we are only focused on a specific type of gain, rather than holistic health.

But if we just stopped abusing ourselves, that might also put less pressure on the natural systems that support us and we become better stewards of the Earth.

These thoughts and ideas developed and percolated in my mind as I continued this mindful and surprisingly spiritual journey.

Food is Medicine

Slowly, after about 10 days, my skin began to clear up – first in small, barely noticeable ways, and soon, significantly. 

The results pushed me to continue. And, in part, I was getting into the groove of the routine – I had better recipes (thank you, YouTube), I had a better understanding of which ingredients I wanted to use and which I did not, and I had the muscle memory of making these meals regularly. 

All of these things made my life, and my new diet, easier. 

A whole new rhythm and mindset needs to kick in for this kind of thing to work, but if you give it time it will eventually start working.

Two weeks after I first started the fast, there were huge improvements. 

This reinforced a truth that I think we lose sight of: food is medicine.

I know I had lost sight of it; or maybe more accurately, I never had sight of it in the first place. I never used to think about food – it was just always there, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve eaten it because that’s normal. 

Of course, there’s a vague sense that ‘food is good for you,’ or at least that food is necessary – but there’s a certain thoughtlessness with which we consume it.

Eating real food really helps. It successfully cured my ailments. 

My skin completely cleared up and my body felt as if it were functioning at a more optimal level. 

We were made to eat these wholesome foods. The compounds and nutrients in them serve to heal us and make us stronger. 

The bright bags of chips in grocery stores and the 3:00 a.m. bodega chopped cheese are not food, they are just distractions we think we enjoy. Unfortunately, they are easily at our disposal though they are junk that we need to dispose of.

I started to appreciate being in a calorie deficit. 

It went along with the idea that I had heard many times from many different sources – from YouTube videos to my gym bro ex-roommate – the fewer calories you consume, the longer you live.

So I kept this practice going, and after some tweaks and modifications made down the line, I developed my monthly “Fasting Week.” 

The first day of every month, I do a 36-hour fast – this resets the body. And then, for the next five and a half days, I am vegan, gluten-free and sugar-free – fresh foods for my refreshed body. 

This period of restraint helps to maintain and repair my body. It also eases me into a more balanced and mindful month.

Routines Schmoutines

The gradual impact of my practice was obvious while I was traveling through Asia earlier this year, in 2026. 

My diet had started to include more (delicious but) oily street foods. And I began to give in more to the temptations of trying new and exotic dishes, which weren’t always the healthiest. 

After a while, the quality of the meals I was consuming started to take a toll on my body. First, I noticed the small signs – slowness, sleep quality – and then, the side of my neck started to become red and itchy – an all-too-familiar feeling. 

But instead of feeling the need to go all out and start a rigid routine during my vacation, I was able to identify where I was off-balance and gently correct the course. 

My rash did not spread like last time; in fact, it quickly got better even though I was still partaking in the occasional sugary treat. 

Simply by modifying the amount of time I fasted in the morning, I felt I was able to do wonders. I would aim for a total fast of around 16 hours, including the time I spent asleep  – but again, it wasn’t a strict rule, just something of which I was more mindful. 

I was also more mindful of increasing my intake of fibrous foods while decreasing inflammatory foods like wheat and dairy. 

Extremes can be helpful in allowing us to find our limits and better understand ourselves, but there is no need to live in extremes forever. 

There is only so much stress the body can take and a routine that once acted as medicine can quickly turn to poison. 

Life is not about discipline for discipline’s sake. Nor is it all fun and games. Life is simply balance. 

There is a time for joyous feast, there is a time for mindful famine. Hell, there might even be a time for a candy bar.