Have you ever wondered where your food comes from...beyond the supermarket or your refrigerator? While recently preparing an afternoon snack, a particular meditation had eased into my thoughts. Eating Mindfully, by Thich Nhat Hanh. In this Buddhist thread of wisdom, Hanh asks readers to be observant of one's food. Specifically, tracing its journey from seed, to fruit, to harvest, to distributor, to table. Plus, all of those places in between. Initially, the practice comes across as somewhat elementary, an activity reserved for children. Nevertheless, if this height of awareness is maintained with each bite, one can be impacted by the exercise.
I would like to assert that this level of mindfulness is my custom, but such is seldom the case. On the rare occasions when I do remember, my thoughts last little more than a couple of bites and then run amok. Buddhists refer to this random and seemingly uncontrollable pollution of focus as "monkey mind." Quite appropriate when considering the appearance of our primate friends viewed through wildlife programming, scurrying about and swinging without any apparent direction.
During those moments when I do experience a particular calmness of thought; albeit much too infrequent, a deep sense of clarity can be realized. Much to my annoyance, I am unable to remain in this peaceful state for any longer than a sneeze in the fabric of time. Bugger! This shortcoming notwithstanding, on one such instance this absence of monkey mind coincided with the preparation of my snack, fish and crackers. Aside from the rumblings in my belly clamoring to be satiated, I casually set out to ponder what these familiar and ordinary foods encountered on their pilgrimage from seed to plate. Entering into a meditative state of awareness, another thought made itself present. No, this was not a condition of my curse with the monkey mind. Instead, what was juxtaposing in my noggin was a melding of two different spiritual walks. The Buddhist sense of awareness to eat mindfully coupled with the Christian accounts of Jesus feeding thousands and, following his resurrection, serving breakfast to his disciples. (In both Christian accounts the food central to the theme was fish and bread.)
The notion of feeding thousands of people with two fish and five loaves of bread (Matthew 14:13-21; Mark 6:30-44; Luke 9:10-17; John 6:1-15 NLT) has always been a difficult concept for me to grasp. The baskets of leftovers complicates my reasoning even more. But, my struggles with those happenings are not pertinent. At least, not in this instance! My ruminations focused more on the nonchalant choice of snack stuffs and their similarity to that which was shared with the followers of Jesus. (In close proximity to Jewish Passover, the bread they consumed was likely unleavened, as were my crackers.) Some of the harmony caused me to pause. They were following Jesus; I am studying him. They were likely sitting on lumpy ground; I was poised on a very lumpy mattress. They were undoubtedly confused and excited; so am I. Surely, they wondered why he shared such mysteries with them; ditto. The list is unending...feel free to insert any of your own parallel insights.
More profound was when my meditations lead me to recall Jesus feeding the disciples fish and bread after his resurrection (John 21:1-14 NLT). How humbling that must have been for them. Can you imagine our response? As I sat, balancing a chunk of fish atop a saltine cracker, I could not help but wonder of their thoughts. They had witnessed so many miracles by Jesus. They were right there! Not only had the disciples watched a magnificent segment of history unfold, they were a part of it. They journeyed side by side with Jesus. The disciples were privy to the love and compassion he freely shared. Sadly, they were acutely aware of the ugliness which fell upon him. His death. The aftermath of despair and loneliness which followed. Then, after his resurrection, Jesus prepared and served the disciples a meal! They had observed him perform similar acts of service for countless others, but only they truly knew who he was. How does one put all of that into perspective?
Thankfully, these accounts have been recorded for the posterity of furture generations...you and me.
To say the least, my snack was fulfilling!
