Intuitive Eating: A Practice

Here is what intu­itive eat­ing looks like in practice.

Set aside a time to eat a meal alone at a table. Silence your phone. Take ten to get into your body, count­ing ten deep, inten­tion­al breaths.

Now look at your food. Really look at it, as if you are a sci­en­tist see­ing this par­tic­u­lar food for the first time. If it’s cur­rent­ly in a take-out con­tain­er, trans­fer it to a pret­ty plate and grab some real cut­lery if you can.

Now think about the food you are eat­ing: Consider where the food came from, what it looked like in the ground or in the water or in the sky. Who grew or har­vest­ed it? Be thank­ful for all the peo­ple it took to get those morsels to your mouth. Appreciation appre­ci­ates; grat­i­tude for your food is cru­cial in intu­itive eating.

Now, place the first bite of food on your tongue, but don’t chew it yet. Just leave it on your tongue and notice how it feels in your mouth. Maybe even close your eyes. Now chew, while con­tin­u­ing to notice any sen­sa­tions. Engage all of the sen­sa­tions. Pay atten­tion to the tex­tures, tem­per­a­ture, fla­vor, and crunch. Notice any smells or sounds. Try to taste and iden­ti­fy all the dif­fer­ent ingre­di­ents in your meal. Simply be curi­ous about the expe­ri­ence. Also, enjoy the experience.

Continue to eat, slow­ly, silent­ly and with inten­tion. Don’t move so slow­ly that it feels forced or awk­ward; just stay present with the expe­ri­ence of eating.

Eating with oth­ers can be a mind­ful­ness prac­tice too. Work togeth­er to pre­pare the meal or set the table. If going out, choose a restau­rant that has a sooth­ing, qui­et atmos­phere (this is get­ting hard­er and hard­er. Cue my rant about tele­vi­sions at din­ing estab­lish­ments. Turn the game down already).  Be present with the taste and tex­ture of the food, but acknowl­edge the pres­ence of those around you. Smile at them, look into their eyes as you speak. Remember that grat­i­tude is the door­way to the joy and peace you seek. Honor the meal by dis­cussing how deli­cious it is or how grate­ful you are to the wait­er, chef, farmer or earth for mak­ing it avail­able to you. Eat slow­ly and avoid overeat­ing. Phone should stay in pock­ets and purses.

My fam­i­ly start­ed a tra­di­tion at the din­ner table a few years ago we call GLAD. Each per­son takes a moment to share some­thing about their day for which they are grate­ful, some­thing they learned, some­thing they achieved or accom­plished, and some­thing that delight­ed them. It is so, so easy to grum­ble and moan about our days. It’s a prac­tice to recon­di­tion our minds to focus on the pos­i­tive. Our mind looks for what we tell it to; we might as well set the knob to curios­i­ty, under­stand­ing, and aware­ness. GLAD has become such a habit, we all three find our­selves look­ing for GLAD moments, tak­ing note of things to report on that night.

I am Grateful for…

I Learned…

I Accomplished/Achieved…

I was Delighted by…

If you con­sid­er that grat­i­tude, knowl­edge, pride, and won­der lie in the parts of the brain asso­ci­at­ed with present-moment aware­ness, then you can more eas­i­ly see why this tra­di­tion com­pli­ments intu­itive eating.

Sometimes we have to grab food on the go, eat­ing in the car or at a noisy bar. Use these as oppor­tu­ni­ties to prac­tice mind­ful­ness too; take ten while wait­ing for your cof­fee in the dri­ve-through line or in your car before you enter the Sports Bar. Remember that we prac­tice mind­ful­ness in calm waters, so that it becomes our go-to even when the storms hit. Our days gen­er­al­ly con­tain more chaos than calm. Work the prac­tice so the prac­tice works for you.

Try to incor­po­rate at least one lone intu­itive eat­ing meal each week. And before each and every meal, take ten. Over time, these skills will bleed into all of your eat­ing expe­ri­ences, help­ing you to write a food sto­ry that is mean­ing­ful and fulfilling.