Meals

We took a break from the ashram the second evening and had dinner at a lovely Indian buffet (yes, they have those in India, and the Indians eat there too). I was quickly realizing how much I value meals as social events. Five of us eat and talked and laughed and got to know each other.

Father Joe tells me that the ashram eating practice is not only for efficiency, but for spiritual discipline—ideally people are not supposed to talk at all. He compared it to monastic practices of eating in silence. I imagine there is value in doing one thing at a time—eating and being mindful of eating, for instance, mindful of sustenance and those whose labor provides it. Eating alone is more the norm among many Americans—grazing, watching TV, doing something else. Sitting down to eat together as a family or community is less common than it was a generation or two ago. I realized that I value giving and receiving and sharing meals at least as much as the food itself. I find the thoughts and personalities of companions quite interesting. Especially when we are all taking in the same events from our various viewpoints. At our table were two Protestants and three Catholics, an age range of some 30 years, and a variety of professional backgrounds, sharing in common the fact that we are learning to meditate.

Later when we arrived at the Christian ashram outside of Trichy, where they serve and eat similarly, I realized that I didn’t mind silence at meals as much as the seemingly heedless way we and the food were handled at the first place. If mindfulness is part of meditation, and the world of God’s gifts of people and nourishment are part of what we are mindful of, the servers at the second place have it right. We sit on straw mats, eat from “thalis” (as in “vegetarian thali” at home, the thali is the metal plate itself), and are looked in the eye as the food is gently served. Those of us unenculturated enough to desire a spoon are offered one. I am one, because I am messy anyway.