exercise: cookies and milk
Suddenly having money, I decided that I could buy cookies if I wanted to. So I did. I specifically looked for a package that had the fewest cookies possible, which meant some local fancy shmancy cookies.
I went home and put two on a plate, poured myself a glass of almond milk, and sat down. Something in the way that the two cookies balanced visually on the clear oblong plate made me feel tranquil and ceremonial about eating cookies, like the way that a horizontal line on a page is calmer than a diagonal.
So, I decided to really really really concentrate on the cookies. I mean, I'd been planning on concentrating before--even though I'm not taking in more calories than I'm burning, I'm trying to get over my propensity to stuff my face as fast and hard as I can, especially with treats--but now I was serious.
I took a bite. I treated that bite of cookie like I was at a wine tasting: eyes closed, attention to feel as well as flavor, tried to isolate different flavors. I even slurped a little to try and get more vapor to pass through my nasal cavity. I paid attention to the way that the oils clung to the inner surfaces of my mouth. Paid attention to how the vanilla sort of appears as it volatilizes, boiling on the tongue. Noted that when you really pay attention you can detect the bitterness of even non-dark chocolate and locate it at the back of your tongue.
Still chewing, I started letting my mind wander to meditate on connections. The cookies are from the Seattle area... where are the ingredients from?... the cocoa is probably from what, Africa, South America?... Teresa gave up chocolate, even though she loved it, because of the child labor that so often goes into it... Reminds me of 1984, how the continuous war was fought primarily over who got to exploit Africa... butter and sugar rationing... butter and sugar in the cookies... almond milk, don't almonds grow in Iran?... these are probably from California... where are the cows, the chickens?...
I kept on that way for maybe 15 minutes. By the time I was done, I couldn't handle eating the second cookie, and put it back in the box. I'm so having people over for cookies and milk some day.
I went home and put two on a plate, poured myself a glass of almond milk, and sat down. Something in the way that the two cookies balanced visually on the clear oblong plate made me feel tranquil and ceremonial about eating cookies, like the way that a horizontal line on a page is calmer than a diagonal.
So, I decided to really really really concentrate on the cookies. I mean, I'd been planning on concentrating before--even though I'm not taking in more calories than I'm burning, I'm trying to get over my propensity to stuff my face as fast and hard as I can, especially with treats--but now I was serious.
I took a bite. I treated that bite of cookie like I was at a wine tasting: eyes closed, attention to feel as well as flavor, tried to isolate different flavors. I even slurped a little to try and get more vapor to pass through my nasal cavity. I paid attention to the way that the oils clung to the inner surfaces of my mouth. Paid attention to how the vanilla sort of appears as it volatilizes, boiling on the tongue. Noted that when you really pay attention you can detect the bitterness of even non-dark chocolate and locate it at the back of your tongue.
Still chewing, I started letting my mind wander to meditate on connections. The cookies are from the Seattle area... where are the ingredients from?... the cocoa is probably from what, Africa, South America?... Teresa gave up chocolate, even though she loved it, because of the child labor that so often goes into it... Reminds me of 1984, how the continuous war was fought primarily over who got to exploit Africa... butter and sugar rationing... butter and sugar in the cookies... almond milk, don't almonds grow in Iran?... these are probably from California... where are the cows, the chickens?...
I kept on that way for maybe 15 minutes. By the time I was done, I couldn't handle eating the second cookie, and put it back in the box. I'm so having people over for cookies and milk some day.