This year, for Lent, I am swearing off…nothing. In fact, I’m going to jump on the enjoy-it-more bandwagon. Doing an about face from Faster-Harder-More to Slower-Deeper-Less. The quirk of this hat trick is, less will, in fact, be more. At least while eating. The rest of the time, mindfulness be damned. Enough already.
I eat. You eat. We don’t need to talk. Nice to know you are there. Parallel play.
Try this: take a bite. It doesn’t matter what the food is, but make sure it is something you love – let’s say it’s that
crusty bread swaddled, stinky cheese filled, mustard coated, smokedysmoked country ham laden, gherkin spooning, sandwich you covet.
Now comes the hard part. Put the fork down. This could be a lot more challenging than you imagine, because that first bite was very good and another immediately beckons. You’re hungry.
Today’s experiment in eating, however, involves becoming aware of that reflexive urge to plow through your meal like Cookie Monster on a shortbread bender. Resist it. Leave the fork on the table. Chew slowly. Stop talking. Tune in.
This year, for Lent, I am swearingoff…anything beyond germaine. Strip away the excess. No thank you. Is my mind behind it 100%? No? No thank you. Not germaine.
This year, for Lent, I am swearing off…ideals. I am swearing on…making tough choices. That’s where the petroleum-product-masquerading-as-rubber meets the road and gives you traction. Shooting you off the launching pad of essentials and into the galaxy of ideals.
This year, for Lent, my mind is full. Putting my mouth where my mind is. And my mind where my mouth is. Parallel play.
Mindful Eating as Food for Thought by Jeff Gordinier, The New York Times, February 7, 2012
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
The Lunch Encounter 
