I first heard of this raisin game (term is mine) through a local orthodox rabbi, who did a seminar at Limmud, months before I had heard of Kabat-Zinn - the name of the seminar escapes me the moment, but it involved visualization experiments. We did not do the raisin game, but the rabbi mentioned in describing related exercises that he apparently leads a practice involving eating raisins and that people tell him afterwards "wow, I've never tasted anything like that before!" Although I adore this rabbi and find his approach inspiring, his remarks about this raisin class discomfited me. I have no interest in having slow, sensual experiences with my food. And the idea of a bunch of people sitting there with their eyes closed rolling raisins around their tongues and thinking of adjectives about it is a bit repulsive to me.
Then a therapist actually had me do the experiment. This was again before I had read any Kabat-Zinn. I tried to participate fully with an open mind - seriously, I tried - but I sucked at it. You have to stare at the raisin and smell it and feel it before you eat it. You are supposed to notice the differences between the raisins and all that. I was fairly impatient with this. Ok, this is a flat, wrinkly raisin. And once we got into the eating part, I didn't like thinking about raisins getting moist and plump in my mouth. Perhaps I would have enjoyed the exercise more with a regular fruit. Raisins remind me too much of shriveled-up umbilical cords and over-soaked fingertips.
Personally, the joy I experience from food comes from shoveling large quantities of it down my throat quickly and continuously until I feel full. Said food is typically cheesy, fried, or both. Food in the way I experience it is amazing. Eating is my favorite activity. I am even a decent enough cook, if a bit limited. When I lose faith in all else in the world, I am often able to comfort myself somewhat by thinking about some delicious consumable. Mmmmmm. Food.
And I tend to disagree that my devouring eating style means I do not appreciate food or that I'm somehow missing some dimension of it. I did not particularly enjoy those raisins or the act of eating them. I also tried slow/mindful eating of a cinnamon roll on December 27 and did not feel like the cinnamon roll tasted better or worse. I was only frustrated because I wanted to eat it faster.
So I am not what you would call a "mindful" eater by nature. But as a vegetarian since 2010 and keeping some level of kosher for over 15 years, I consider myself a thoughtful eater. Kashrut, by the way, has been described as "Judaism's compromise with the ideal of vegetarianism." (Prager & Telushkin, The Nine Questions People Ask about Judaism, at 59.) I do not have real trouble abstaining from certain ingredients (meat, or chametz during Passover) altogether, or fasting on Yom Kippur. I even tried veganism once before, again inspired by the month of Tu B'Shvat last year. But try to get me to control portion sizes or just generally eat healthier, or slower, or less? Good luck.
So I begin my approach to eating mindfully for these six months with what works for me - ingredient control. While still a work in progress, this is what I'm aiming for right now:
- Arden's Garden 2-day juice detox, starting yesterday
- 75% raw food diet, otherwise vegan, until Tu B'Shvat (2/8)
- Vegan diet, goal of 50%+ raw for the remainder of the 6 months, but allowing myself to indulge in dairy/eggs on Shabbat and possibly other special occasions
- On Shabbat, trying to eat at least one meal slowly/mindfully
Raw food will be a major challenge, especially in winter when a bowl of hot soup or a cup of hot coffee always sounds so nice... I think 75% sounds like a good goal, but there are certainly some that suggest you won't get the benefits if you don't go all the way. In any case, I hope raw foods will help improve my eating habits and assist in my mindfulness goals.
I completely agree. There are many other foods for which I would rather be mindful. Likening a raisin to an umbilical cord cracked me up! :)
ReplyDeleteI think there are different types of mindful eating, just as there are different types of meditation. Contemplative meditation is where you DO think about things, preferably a specific topic, in a focused manner. This can help sort out your thoughts &/or help direct your thoughts and activities towards more meaningful goals. Other types of meditation have a goal of NOT thinking - or at least trying to focus on ONE thing (usually breath or a mantra) so as to still your mind & enter a deeper state of consciousness than thought.
ReplyDeleteI'd say the raisin meditation
iPad fail...
ReplyDeleteI'd say the raisin meditation is more the type that aims to remove the non-stop distracting thoughts so you can experience the raisin in a deeper way. (Like seeing through a clear window vs. a muddy one). Where being kosher & vegetarian, etc. is more a way to be mindful of meaning and direction in life. Rock on!
Detox, shmetox.
ReplyDeleteDepending on how much cardio-based training I am doing,
I will consume between 3,000 to 5,500 calories a day.
Try to eat that many calories and be mindful of each bite. So I agree with the shovel method.
However ... I read recently about a study that compared athletic endurance among two groups who were allowed to swish their "sports" beverage around in their mouths, but then had to spit it out, drinking none of it.
But one group was swishing a sugar-based sports drink (e.g., regular Gatorade).
The other group swished around artificially sweetened sports beverages, that tasted the same.
Even though they did not consume any more calories than the artificially-sweetened beverage group, the sugar-sweetened group performed considerably longer.
Apparently, the brain and body are able to detect the sugar being swished around the mouth, and then decide to release stored supplies of emergency energy / sugar into the bloodstream, since the stored energy will now be replaced by what was being "ingested". But nothing, of course, ended up being ingested.
What that study makes me consider is how I drink my gatorade on the court. In tennis, with Raymond, I typically guzzle it so as to not make him wait for me. But it would probably be better for me, and for my game, if I were to swish it around and enjoy it a bit more, according to that study.
So mindfulness of a different sort would help. Mindfulness of what science says about it. Not mindfulness of how many people contributed to my being able to drink that gatorade.