I’m sure we have heard of using chopsticks as a method to slow down our eating, but I like to think of them as an exercise in mindfulness.
One night, in a life before social distancing while having dinner with friends, I thought about the role that chopsticks play in the enjoyment of eating sushi out. The ritual is very much a part of the experience. And I can say that very few experiences match that of omakase at the hands of a skilled chef.
While I love to embrace such esoteric endeavors, the meathead in me also loves a more subdued (and less expensive) sushi joint to maximize calories in protein and rice. And my chopstick practice changes as well.
The mindfulness engagement of an experience is holistic; we cradle the chopsticks and feel the polish. We wait in anticipation for the chef’s next selection. We ooh and aww and explore texture and smell and sound and touch; all before exploring taste. The chopstick is a gentle thread by which we carry the delicate package placed upon our plate.
When engaged in a less mindful practice, however, chopsticks can resemble a shovel; an instrument with the sole purpose of intense intake.
Everything in life can be viewed through this lens. A tool is just a tool. How we wield it can determine if it is a simple farming implement or if it is a deadly weapon. The only thing that changes is our minds.
