There was a Japanese Zen master who practiced every day and had no other hobbies except sweets. When he was seriously ill, disciples came from all over the country to visit him. Of course, they didn't forget to bring some snacks to the teacher so that he could have a taste before he died. At the moment of meditation, the old Zen master, like other advanced practitioners, sat on the bench and looked calm. But then, he really picked up a biscuit, put it in his mouth and chewed it slowly with a little difficulty. After eating, he opened his lips slightly, as if to say something, so all the disciples leaned over nervously, thinking that Master had to listen carefully and clearly to be the last revelation in his life. The old Zen master finally spoke. He only said two words: "delicious!" Then he died.

When a person comes to the last moment of his life, what he thinks is still the taste of timely dessert, and his last words are still praise for dessert, without any farewell, disappointment and fear. Isn't he the best gourmet? Isn't this what a so-called gourmet should look like? Treat the food in front of you wholeheartedly, have no distractions, and even ignore life and death.

Later, everyone said that the Zen master was really tall and had reached the realm of consciousness. The reason is that the practice of Buddhism is most concerned about whether a person is always "mindfulness".

Mindfulness means focusing on living in the present, walking intently when walking, sleeping intently when sleeping, not clinging to what happened in the past and not worrying about future troubles. This state is naturally happy, but also self-free, because it completely cuts off my past and future, and does not regard what happened in the past as my own business, nor does it regard me in the future as a continuation of me now. It is difficult to achieve this state in normal times, and it is even more difficult to maintain this state at the moment of death, so many people think that this "dessert Zen master" is a real nirvana.

In fact, we eat it every day. Have we ever tried to focus on every meal and every bite of food? Read newspapers for breakfast, have a working meeting for lunch, and have "TV juice bibimbap" for dinner. How long has it been since we tried to treat the food in front of us wholeheartedly? If we concentrate on eating, will the taste of food become different in peacetime? We often feel sorry for some people who eat fast, and for some people who have many taboos in diet. But when we think back, we usually wolf down our food and even read another meal while eating this meal. Is this the pleasure of enjoying life and knowing how to eat?

It seems that gourmets can be divided into at least two categories: most of them are quick-thinking and imaginative. When eating a piece of meat, they will recall the skill of a restaurant in the distance, or miss a feast tomorrow; A few people, such as the dessert Zen master, focus on what they see and taste in their mouths. For such a person, perhaps even a mouthful of rice is the most delicious in the world.

There is also a Zen monk, Zongzhe Fujii, who is famous for his cooking. He once met a young man on the Shinkansen train. The young office worker put his briefcase on his knee as a small table, read magazines while drinking beer, and took out his lunch by the way.

Monk Zong Zhe noticed that the young man "mainly read magazines and had lunch by the way". His behavior "is nothing more than taking' eating' as a functional action, that is, putting food in his mouth, chewing it mechanically, passing through his throat and finally storing it in his stomach bag." Monk Zong Zhe looked at the well-rested office worker and found that "his eyes have been staring at the magazine, and he didn't feel the existence of box lunch at all. The diet life of such people can be called "robot eating".

I am ashamed to say that I am also a eating robot. I often eat alone, and I can't get rid of books and magazines when I eat, for fear of wasting my eating time. Think about it, isn't it the same for working meals or dinners on weekdays? Why do many dinners clearly order a table of dishes, and there are still many unfinished dishes when they leave, so why do you still feel hungry when you get home? That's because we often concentrate on talking and forget the food when eating. Yes, food is usually not the main character of a dinner party. I seldom hear people say, hey, there is a very good restaurant. Let's invite someone to dinner. In most cases, the situation is just the opposite. First, we decide who to invite, and then we go to the restaurant to finish everyone's party.

Whether a person reads a book and watches TV reports while eating, or a group of people find a place to eat and have business talks, this is a signal that we don't want to waste time. This is an era of developed food, which is really ironic. Almost everyone is a gourmet, but we still think that eating is a waste of time. Probably there is a standard in people's minds that three meals a day is only a necessary business procedure, which can be sent casually and filled in with other activities at will; On the other hand, food is a very special and unusual thing and must be prepared.

However, if we treat the simplest food with the attitude towards food, what effect will it have?

A few years ago, Vietnamese monk thich nhat hanh visited Hongkong. In the meditation camp he presided over, he taught adults to eat very slowly, not to talk while eating, and to concentrate on the dishes in front of them. This is the so-called "mindfulness diet". Thich nhat hanh once explained mindfulness diet with "orange Zen": instead of eating while peeling oranges as usual, concentrate on peeling oranges, feel the juice it gives off in an instant and smell its fragrance in the air. Then take out a piece of orange meat, chew it slowly in your mouth, and concentrate on every movement, such as biting it with front teeth, grinding it with molars, and stirring it with your tongue until it is almost liquefied and swallowed.

If you do this, you will have an unprecedented new feeling for the most common orange. You will also find that you don't have to make a special trip to buy an expensive Italian blood orange, because you have no idea what eating oranges is. Best of all, this practice will also guide you to pay attention to the process of eating, as if you have never eaten.

More exaggerated than thich nhat hanh's Orange Zen is the raisin practice of American Buddhist teacher Confield. He taught his students to eat a raisin in ten minutes, and many people felt too full after eating it!

We can't eat every meal like this, but at least we can spend a little time every day practicing mindfulness and eating carelessly. You don't have to think of this as a religious ceremony, you just need to think of it as a basic exercise in understanding food.