Full-Body Mindfulness

by Cai Quirk
Ithaca Meeting

I love food. I love the physical sensations of eating food — the feel, the taste, the smell, even sound and sight. It can provide sensations that I can’t get anywhere else. Eating mindfully has helped me heal from a restrictive eating disorder, and helped me get to this place where I can enjoy food again. Sometimes though, the mindfulness leads to such joy in the sensations that they override listening more deeply to my body’s hunger cues; crunchy or spicy snacks are a particular favorite.

This year, I began to transition from the idea of ‘mindful eating’ to ‘full-body mindfulness.’ In times where I feel the desire for food, I ask my body where the desire is coming from. Sometimes it truly is hunger, sometimes it is my taste buds which can often be happy with some herbal tea, and sometimes the desire is for sensation. When I release the focus on food as the sole possibility for filling this desire, I can listen more deeply for what my body truly needs in that moment.

Right now I am enjoying the sensations of laying in bed, swaddled in blankets with the computer’s weight on top of me. I also find fulfillment in stretching, running my hands over tree bark, back rubs, drinking cold or bubbly water, shaking out laundry, holding a huge breath in and feeling the air pressure, sifting hands through rocks and sand, breaking sticks, and more. Once, when I was helping my godmothers shell beans, I noticed that there was a similar very satisfying sensation to crunching chips: the crackle of the shell, the pop of beans coming out, the dry whisper as each moved through my hands.

Humans used to shell a lot more beans by hand. So much physical stimulation has been removed in this society with many people having less exercise, less physical contact with people, blander food, more and more desk jobs than physical labor, and machines to do things like wash dishes and laundry, Our houses are made of more limited and uniform surfaces like smooth floors and chairs rather than undulating ground and rough logs to sit on.

Many of us get notably less stimulation than our ancestors did. Many of us don’t immediately miss the loss of sensation through modern day conveniences and appliances. Many of us struggle with feeling too tempted by certain kinds of food, but is it always the food we’re really craving? What other sensations might nourish deeper longings? What did we each enjoy as kids… swimming, biking, cuddling in bed, the wind or sun on your face?

There are so many incredible sensations to love, yet sometimes I resist that love and joy, worrying that it might turn into a covetousness that takes over my life. I worry I’ll focus too much time on outward sensation and not go deeper into spirit or intellect or being productive. I fear nothing will feel like enough even if I give it more time or that it will feel like a waste of time if I do.

And yet, this is where the mindfulness comes in. This is where pausing and taking a moment to breathe, to notice the sensations that are already here, to listen deeply to my body is so important. Many times, in this moment of pause, I realize that I do already have enough sensation, if only I’ll let it be enough. And when it isn’t, I’ve learned the stretches and squeezes and jumps that can give me more. Sometimes I even eat potato chips, but when I do, it’s because that’s exactly what is right for my body in that moment.