The Buddha's Teachings on Food

This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video The Buddha's Teachings on Food. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on March 19, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Introduction

Good morning everyone, and welcome. Can you hear me okay here? Welcome to those of you online. It feels very encouraging to know there are people participating from all over.

The Buddha used a lot of ordinary concepts and activities as metaphors for spiritual practice and his teachings. For example, the word that is often translated into English as "craving" literally means "thirst." Thirst was the metaphor for human craving. The word for "grasping" or "clinging" is also the word for "fuel," like the fuel of a fire. Somehow, like a flame clings to the wood that it's burning, clinging is the fuel for more clinging. It's a wonderful idea that clinging is the fuel for more clinging.

Another very common idea that the Buddha borrowed as a metaphor for our psychological and mental life is the idea of food. We have food that we can feed our mental life, but we have to be careful what food we feed it. Some food is detrimental and gives you indigestion, and some food helps you to thrive. Being able to know what kind of food we're taking in psychologically and mentally is actually quite helpful. That is what the topic is today: the Buddha's teachings on food.

The Buddha's Teachings on Food

To start, I want to tell a somewhat famous Japanese Buddhist story. There is a story of an erudite academic scholar, perhaps a great scholar on the philosophy of Buddhism, who goes to see a Zen master to have a Dharma discussion. The Zen master says, "Come and have tea." As they are sitting together, the Zen master hands the academic an empty cup and grabs a teapot to pour the tea. When the cup is full, the Zen master does not stop pouring. As the tea starts pouring out over the cup, the academic says, "Stop, stop! The cup is full, it can't take anymore." The Zen master then stops and says, "In the same way, you are so full of your knowledge that there is no room for more."

Whether that's fair to the academic or not, I don't know, but it's certainly possible. Many years ago, I went to see my Burmese teacher, U Pandita^[1]. I had all these questions I wanted to get to the bottom of, and I probably had some opinions, so I was trying to move the conversation in a particular way. At some point, he stopped, looked at me, and said, "Gil, are you here for your own opinions, or to learn something?"

The food we eat can fill us, but how it fills us is very significant. There is some mental food that we take in that fills us so completely there is no more room for anything else. Then there are other kinds of psychological food that actually have the opposite effect: they create more space. A feeling of abundance happens when we take in this food, and within that abundance, there is room for all kinds of things.

For example, if a person is filled with sexual desire for someone, they might say, "I really love that person." But really, the love is wanting the person more than it is genuine goodwill or appreciation. It's possible that the sexual desire is so strong that there's no room for anything else. If anybody stands in their way, they are hardly noticed. If someone asks them a question, they hardly hear it because they are consumed by this desire.

On the other hand, if a person has tremendous appreciation and goodwill that holds space for another person to be who they are, then there's also space for other people. The mind is not narrowed and caught up in a particular desire. Rather, it is taking in a broad appreciation that has an opening feeling. It opens the heart and expands the mind.

Both of those states are kinds of food. Sexual desire can feed more sexual desire. Sometimes desire like that comes from a feeling of discontent and loneliness. Paradoxically, pouring yourself into sexual desire at the expense of everything else is a kind of alienation from oneself. It actually adds to the alienation and dissatisfaction that the desire was supposed to assuage. The same thing happens with alcohol and other addictions; people temporarily feel something, but it leaves them empty. There are other things that fill us nicely, not by leaving no space for anything else, but by making us more expansive, wonderfully available, and empty.

The Hindrances and The Factors of Awakening

In his teachings, the Buddha talked about these two forces: the food that leads to indigestion and our detriment, and the food that leads to our betterment and helps our practice. He summarized these two different processes in teachings called the Five Hindrances^[2] and the Seven Factors of Awakening^[3]. He would often teach the two together, almost like one is the antidote or the opposite of the other.

He said that the food for sensual desire is obsessing about what's attractive. If you spend a lot of time looking at media or advertisements for beautiful cars, I can imagine that after a while, there's more and more desire for beautiful cars, and you don't notice anything else.

I was a little bit surprised at myself by how this process can happen unconsciously. When I first moved to the peninsula over 33 years ago, I had been given an old Toyota Celica. It was happily red, but it was 14 years old by the time I got it. I was very happy and content with it. I used to drive to Palo Alto for dinner before I taught a group on Monday nights. I was happily going along with my old metal car. But in Palo Alto, even back then, there weren't many old cars; there were a lot of new cars. After about five or six years of driving around, I started noticing new car thoughts. "It'd be nice to have a new car." Before that, any car would do. Why buy a new car? I think I was slowly being influenced by what I saw every day. The idea that to fit in you should have a new car was coming in. I thought, "Wow, look at that, Gil. Where did that come from?" That was happening unconsciously. Imagine if I spent every waking hour searching magazines or the web to look at cars. That desire feeds itself.

The Buddha also said that ill will and hostility are fed by looking at what you're repulsed by. If you're repulsed by something and you go on the web to search for all the instances of it, what is that going to do to you? That is going to feed your ill will. I think that happens with politics. People are repulsed by the opposition and how terrible they are, but there's a drive to keep renewing that, studying it, and seeing it. The hostility builds and builds until it unconsciously becomes normal to be this way.

Sloth and torpor—which is not just being tired or fatigued, but a deep, psychological weariness and resistance—also has food. Sometimes you can give in to sloth and torpor posturally. You stay home, hang out, and just watch more TV. The energy begins to sink and drain, feeding more sloth and torpor.

Restlessness and agitation are fed by being unsettled. I've seen this in myself. If I'm restless or agitated, I get activated in an upward direction into my upper torso and my head. If I keep focusing on that feeling of agitation, it feeds itself. It feels like something is wrong, and focusing on it confirms it—yes, something is definitely wrong. If I focus on that feeling of agitation, it tends to feed more of the same.

Doubt works the same way. Focusing on what we don't understand can be a bit of an addiction. There is an assumption that only by understanding can we be safe or get ahead in life. So we keep noticing how much we don't understand, conclude we can't be safe, and the doubt spirals.

Feeding the Heart and Mind

On the other hand—and this is where I think it gets the most interesting—we can be fed by dharmically healthy phenomena. These are the Seven Factors of Awakening. They don't close us down or fill us in a way where we have no space for anything else. Rather, they open us up so there is much more space. Part of the delight of these seven factors is that they give a kind of independence to the inner life. There's space to not be caught by the things we are usually caught by.

The Buddha said that the food for mindfulness is the objects of mindfulness. When we see something as an object to be mindful of, we establish a different kind of relationship to it than if we are not mindful. For example, say I really want a new car. I feel like it's the key to a happy life, and I'm zeroed in on it. What is the proper object for mindfulness? It is not the cars; rather, it is the desire I have for the cars.

As soon as I bring clear mindfulness to the desire, there is space. Clear mindfulness has a quality of spaciousness, a healthy distance, and independence from what we're focusing on. Specifically, there are four general areas where mindfulness can be focused that heavily support this independence and freedom.

The first is mindfulness of the body. If I have desire for a car and I'm agitated, let's be mindful of how that feels in the body. It's turning the attention 180 degrees away from the desire to feel what it's physically like to have that desire, hate, or restlessness. I feel the tension and contraction I carry. Having that wonderful connection of knowing and seeing the tension in a spacious mindfulness allows it to be there. That gives room for the body to relax because the mind is no longer caught up in the desire itself.

The second area is feeling tone—the pleasantness and unpleasantness of the experience. I have this desire for the car. Someone asks, "Is that pleasant?" I might say, "Oh yeah, those cars are so great." But if I do a 180-degree turn to deeply feel the direct living experience here, the cars are still pleasant, but my desire is not. The tension around wanting, searching, and deciding between cars holds a lot of unpleasantness. Anger and hostility can also have a certain pleasure to them, but if we really turn deeply and feel what it's like, we see how harmful it is to ourselves.

The third is the mind state. Be aware of the quality of your inner life. What is the quality of your inner life when you are caught up in desiring a new car? It's not pristine, beautiful, spacious, or expansive. It's not a feeling of abundance; it's the opposite. It feels like lack, a tight constriction of wanting. There is no room for things in that space.

The fourth foundation is starting to understand some of the mental processes at work—understanding the hindrances and the Seven Factors of Awakening.

The Upward Spiral of Awakening

This makes the whole process repeat and build upon itself. The first of the Seven Factors of Awakening is mindfulness. The objects of mindfulness support more mindfulness because it is satisfying to have this wonderful attention that is not locked in and caught.

As that attention is there, the second factor arises: investigation. What it literally means is the process of the mind making healthy distinctions. If you are able to see all of this carefully, you can make the distinction: this activity of wanting a new car in an addicted way is very different from being mindful of the desire. Seeing that distinction is really helpful because then there's a chance for you to choose the one that feels better. If you don't see that distinction, you might as well continue thinking about the car. Being able to distinguish options in the present moment—"this opens me up, this closes me down, this feels tight, this feels supportive"—is invaluable. We become skilled at seeing what is harmful and what is wholesome.

With that agency and that seeing, the third factor of awakening arises: engagement, or energy. This is where we choose to engage: "I think I'm going to choose mindfulness over preoccupation with a car." Having that choice brings energy and engagement. If we keep making choices that make us feel bad, we're going to spiral down and become lethargic and discouraged. Psychologically, it is very important that we feed ourselves with good choices.

That leads to the fourth factor of awakening, which is joy. As we learn to make choices toward the wholesome moment by moment, a feeling of "yes" begins appearing. "Yes, this feels good. Yes, choosing the wholesome feels nice." Recognizing what's joyful is the food for more joy.

The next factor of awakening is tranquility. With enough joy, something inside of us can begin to settle. The Buddha said the food for tranquility is more tranquility. Notice the tranquility that is already here. I could be inflamed around what kind of new car I'm supposed to get. A friend of mine says, "Gil, you don't have much tranquility. Just look out the window. It's a beautiful spring day, so calm and peaceful." I look and see that it is tranquil. Slowly, my friend turns on tranquil music, and something inside of me settles. Tranquility is the food for more tranquility. If we stay in agitated mode, that's the food for more restlessness. This ability to distinguish the path toward tranquility is so useful.

The next factor is samadhi^[4] (concentration). The food for deeper concentration, unification of mind, and meditative states is what the Buddha calls the evidence or the "sign"^[5] of concentration. As people develop concentration in meditation, symptoms of those concentrated states appear. The body feels more unified, there might be a glow of warmth, or the breathing can start feeling quite beautiful. Sometimes there's a tingling, or some people see white light. As we take in the symptoms of concentration, they become the food for more concentration. Recognizing the good things that are happening supports the mind in getting more and more focused and settled.

The seventh factor of awakening is equanimity. Like with tranquility, equanimity is the food for equanimity. You might not have equanimity at first, but as you keep practicing, it starts to come. When it comes, pay attention to it. Let it register, because equanimity is the food for more equanimity.

A Diet for Freedom

One of the things that I think is quite marvelous about this teaching is that you don't have to endlessly analyze yourself or understand the deep cause of your suffering. You don't necessarily have to fix the other people in your life so you can be okay. It's all about turning in, being fed and supported by what's available, and making simple distinctions in your own mental engagement with the world.

It begins by making the distinction between being mindful and not mindful. It makes a world of difference to recognize when you're mindful and when you're just absorbed and lost in an experience. The other day, I had something like a migraine. I felt strange in my stomach, I had a headache, and it was a drag. But I've learned to be mindful of it. There is a way of being mindful where I feel like I'm not identified with the pain. I'm not pretending it's not there, but within a spacious mindfulness, it is almost as if who I am is the mindfulness itself, not the difficult feelings.

A few days earlier, I felt my identity sink into those feelings, as if that's who I was. There is a world of difference between "that's who I am" versus "this is what I'm mindful of." It is so much easier to go through life with this independence. I don't feel aloof, distant, or in denial; it's a place of freedom.

Making this distinction is the food for the other six factors of awakening. They grow and develop, bringing so much more room, space, and freedom in the mind. It turns out that a lot of the problems in your life magically get solved if you change the state of your mind into one that sees clearly, is engaged beautifully, has joy, has tranquility, is deeply settled, and has equanimity. These are states of abundance. They are treasures. The reference point for what needs to happen changes. It turns out Gil's happiness is not dependent on the car! Who would have imagined?

So, what do you feed yourself with? What do you do all the time? The food for the hindrances is very much tied to what we're thinking about all the time. Thinking about cars, thinking about hate, thinking about doubt—watching the mind ruminate and spin out is not good food for the heart. A tremendous amount of psychological distress in our society comes from people constantly thinking the same negative things over and over again. It is debilitating.

It is possible to change the diet. That's what Buddhist practice is about: changing the diet so that the input we take into the heart and mind is beneficial. For the Buddha, it begins by being mindful. It's such a powerful thing to learn, and it's something you keep learning and growing in for years.

I hope that this week you make a resolution to eat better. I hope you find this teaching applicable and that you experiment by taking a deeper look at yourself. Chances are that if you don't stop and take a look at what you're doing, you will be on a diet that's not healthy for you. When we are not preoccupied and lost in our thoughts, we have space for these beautiful qualities of heart that Buddhism cherishes. May you eat well.

Questions and Answers

Question: I have two children, and both of them are suffering because of a family situation that has unfolded post-COVID through no fault of their own. I see my oldest in particular, who's 17, suffering quite greatly because of factors beyond her control. I understand that my suffering is because of her suffering, and I don't know how to help her see how she spends her energy on doubt and things she cannot control. This causes me great suffering, and I am unable to skillfully understand how to support her or how to reach a state of equanimity when someone I love so much is suffering.

Gil Fronsdal: That's a very important question. It probably has so many different factors that any response I give might be too narrow, but here are some ideas.

Some of your pain is completely appropriate for a parent to have for a distressed child. Of course, what parent wouldn't be? But some of the pain has more to do with you than with your child. This is where turning your attention 180 degrees back to yourself is helpful. You can distinguish between the parental pain that is naturally going to be there—which can actually be energizing in a good way—and the extra pain that undermines and debilitates you.

One interesting thing to think about, not as a judgment but as a way of seeing yourself more clearly, is to explore the assumption that this extra suffering comes from a lack of confidence. You might ask, "Why am I lacking confidence? What is that about?"

One of the principles I live by, especially with children, is that they really need to feel the care, love, and acceptance of a parent who is present. They don't necessarily need a parent who can fix their problems, but a parent who understands and accompanies them in a healthy way. Sometimes it's appropriate to get the Band-Aid out and fix things. But if we are highly reactive ourselves and carrying all this extra suffering, we are actually modeling a way of being in the world that teaches kids to be distressed. If we can model being calm, caring, and untroubled by how they are, they start getting a sense of another possibility in the world. Your daughter certainly needs you.

Question: I really empathize with what the previous person said; I suffer from the same thing. I am overly sensitized to the suffering of my offspring. She is a very hard-driving individual who is pregnant, getting a degree, and raising an infant all at the same time. My wife and I have distinctly different approaches to observing her. My approach causes a lot of suffering for me, whereas hers apparently doesn't. I am constantly tuned into everything she does. I feel I need to detune myself first before I can get into that state of calm and equanimity.

Gil Fronsdal: Hopefully, you'll allow me to offer you a carrot. If you could stop being so overly concerned with your daughter—thinking about her, staying in touch with her, finding out what's going on all the time, and constantly dwelling on her challenges—and really take a vacation from that worry, it would help immensely. Whether it's for a few hours or a few days, calm down in a deep way. Then, when you are in contact with her, you will probably bring much more benefit to that relationship.

When you are not with her, you are preparing yourself to be with her and her suffering. If you are not with her, don't bother suffering so much! Let it be in the background because you have something much more important to do: preparing to be a helpful father. That's the carrot.

Question: I have a question that is a little less meaningful and deep. Sometimes the compulsion or attachment isn't really rational. For instance, if I see a plate of french fries and I have this deep craving, or there's something I really want to buy, I could try to investigate the desire and let go of the attachment, but I really, really want it. How do you handle that irrational compulsion or holding on really tight?

Gil Fronsdal: Well, that's the way people are sometimes! [Laughter]

Classically in Buddhism, one of the most important entry-level practices—and by "entry-level" I don't mean remedial, but foundational and crucial to getting started—is restraint. Look for opportunities where this compulsion operates and practice wise restraint. I don't know about the french fries, because they are going to get stale if you don't eat them right away! But with the shopping compulsion, make a commitment to yourself that whenever you feel the urge to buy something, you will always wait a day. That's the restraint part. The next day, your view of it often changes.

With compulsions that are irrational, you often can't go back and successfully analyze the cause or why it's happening; it's just too hard. But by practicing restraint, you cultivate a strength within yourself that becomes stronger and stronger. Hopefully, you find delight and joy in having that autonomy: "Look, there's a compulsion, and I'm not going to do anything about it. Isn't that great?"

Reflections and Closing:

Thank you all very much for being here and participating. We had a celebratory event here on Friday, and there was a lot of catered food left over. If any of you are hungry or would like to take some home, it is out in the kitchen on the counter. Please help yourselves—but no french fries! [Laughter]