I recently wrote a short story with the above title. This is an excerpt from that story which I hope illustrates mindfulness, concentration, and the insights that can arise.
“She watches him eat, about three pieces at a time, carefully, beginning with a little pause to look at the popcorn. How could anyone be so meticulous with popcorn? He chews slowly, thoughtfully. This infuriates her. Does he have to eat so slowly? So carefully? Does he have to think about everything, endlessly, before he speaks? Does he have to be so slow? But the more she watches him, the more curious she becomes.
She decides to follow his example, closes her eyes and puts three pieces into her mouth. She doesn’t chew them. She notices what happens as they’re sandwiched between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, how the butter and salt explode first, followed quickly by the corn taste, and all the while the popcorn is shrinking down to nothing. It disappears! Where did it go? She hasn’t swallowed. All that’s left are the crusty husks. She bites down on them. She notices her chewing, which side of the mouth she’s using and how her tongue is involved. She has this urge to swallow. What makes her want to swallow? Then she observes the feel of the crusty husks going to the back of her mouth, the action of swallowing and she even takes note of them moving down her esophagus, until they disappear from her awareness. So like the thoughts and sensations she’d observed in meditation! They too, come, form, dissolve and disappear. Like life, she thinks. Things arise, form, dissolve and disappear. Everything! Everything does this. Everything is constantly changing. She’s never eaten popcorn or any other food in this way before. She opens her eyes, slowly.
He’s looking at her, kindly, maybe, or with an amused or perhaps even loving expression.”
With metta,
Carol Kavanagh