Eating Meditation

We are dressed in light blue-gray monks robes, or hai qing [hai ching], for laypeople. The tuk-tuk-tuk of a wooden block being banged by a mallet tells us that its time to eat. Gathering in a line alongside the eating table, facing eachother by gender, we wait for the monk to join us in bow before we begin seating ourselves in complete silence in front of dishes that are already served. The monk leads a prayer in Chinese that we have all, by now, memorized. The translation was given to us the first week, but still, it is a bunch of gibberish in new sounds and syllables that sound soothingly melodic and foreign.

There’s a certain way to eat, and a certain way to hold our rice bowls and pick up our chopsticks. Rules and guidelines to follow. All twelve of us in complete silence. If we want more food, we push our plates forward and use signals with our chopsticks for the servers to come and bring us more. Our posture must be completely straight for better digestion. Shoulders relaxed. We must finish everything on our plate, and if the server dishes us more than we can eat, we have to take it away at the beginning of our meal, right after the prayer. This is the monastic way of eating.

When you wash the dishes, just wash the dishes.

When you eat, just eat.

Every moment is an opportunity for meditation. Meditation, simply put, is the ability to stay present in the things that you do; being mindful of your thoughts and the task at hand.

How does the food taste? Is the rice warm, sticky, and fresh? Or cold and a day old? If you eat too fast, you might not be able to stop and enjoy it before its gone! Enjoy each flavor, and the flavors that mesh together when you mix the food on your plate and into your mouth. Feel the textures and flavor in your tongue palate. Concentrate on just eating. This is what I’m learning at the monastery. When you’re busy with chatter, or multi-tasking in front of a computer, you don’t appreciate the simple pleasures of food. You eat more than you need, blindly taking more and more before you realize that you’re full. There are so many times that I crave food, like ice cream, that by the time I eat it it’s gone in less than a minute! I realize that the craving tastes better in my mind than the actual food.

Vegetarian Lifestyle

I’m eating vegetarian. While not all Buddhists practice a vegetarian lifestyle, it is encouraged for ethical reasons due to the philosophy of not hurting any sentient beings. A typical meal–breakfast, lunch, and dinner–is three types of vegetable dishes, a bowl of rice, and a bowl of soup. Often, noodles are served, and bread instead of soup for breakfast.

Sometimes, I really miss a good ‘ole American breakfast. Hashbrowns and omelets and waffles and pancakes. But, I don’t miss meat.

The Chinese have a unique way about nutrition. Everything is colors and taste; engaging our senses. Instead of the typical “food pyramid”, we have balanced meals based on five colors of food (white, black, yellow, red/orange, and green) and five tastes (sour, spicy, sweet, etc.). It’s weird, but it works.

We aren’t supposed to eat in between meals, but the gap between lunch at 11:30am and dinner at 6:00pm is tough. Sometimes, I eat snacks that we get to buy once a week, but I am trying to control my hunger and drinking water instead. I’m trying to get by as purely as I can in this program, getting the most out of my experience as closely as possible (still working on the shaved head thing). While several rules and guidelines are set in place, it’s our own personal choice to follow them. Like the craving for ice cream, but the control not to eat it, knowing that I’d rather eat healthier than feed my body the typical junk to satisfy my huge sweet tooth. When you eat, just eat. There’s no room for emotional eating at the monastery. It would be good for my body to abstain.