The Value of Eating in Silence as a Family

I have a lot of experience eating in silence due to my time spent at retreat centers. I call it "mindful eating" and it can be a very meditative experience. I'm a quiet person by nature, so I have natural tendencies toward contemplative eating. When I'm at silent retreats, I feel like I can actually be myself at meal times, and all conversational pressures are off. I can be present with my meal, but I also become fully present with my surroundings, and the people eating with me.

Over the years I wondered if we could replicate this "mindful eating" practice at home, but always thought it was a pipe dream. Both of the kids in our home are incessant chatterboxes. I don't mean that in a criticizing way, it's just a fact that they both have a constant need to fill the silent spaces with words. Some people are like that, and they are two peas in a pod. I even hear them talking to themselves in their rooms. Well, tonight blew me away because we had a true, silent meal together as a family; it was a beautiful experience.

The meal tonight was spaghetti. I'd cooked the marinara sauce with extra garlic, zucchini and tomatoes which made for a rich tasting, but simple meal. The aromas had filled the house, so we were all salivating when we first sat down to eat. The silent part of the meal was completely spontaneous and unplanned. Right away my husband stated, "I am going to practice silence during this meal." The kids became quiet, stared at Dad, looked at each other, and then Dad said it again, "Just so you know, I'm practicing complete silence during this meal." He proceeded to say a short prayer before we ate (something we do at every family meal, either aloud or inwardly), and when he was done I expected the kids to speak while Dad was quiet.

As we proceeded to eat, I noticed complete quiet right away. I noticed because it never, ever happens  that way. Usually, Andrew is monopolizing the conversation by giving lectures about what he learned, or projects he's working on, or asking a-zillion questions. Or Sosena is attempting to assume Andrew's role and begins rambling about things she's been up to. Rarely do my husband and I get a word in edgewise during family meals, so the silence was a stark contrast to what we're used to. I kept waiting for the talking to begin, especially from 5-year old Sosena. I always assumed she was too young to ever understand or take such a mindful practice seriously. I was wrong.. we all sat there, fully present with our meal, our surroundings, the sound of the fridge humming, and a strong sense of connection to one another. Stronger than the connection words give us. The truth is, words get in the way. Without them, we looked more thoughtfully into each others eyes. We were more aware and perceptive. I noticed things, like my hand on the fork and how it was moving, how great the meal tasted with each bite, and I actually ate more slowly.

For an entire twenty minutes we experienced a silent dinner together. I am still amazed. The kids were not struggling, bored, or deprived of connecting to their parents. Instead, their senses were heightened, and they felt loved and connected. We exchanged winks, smiles, and at one point I placed my hand on Andrew's. That probably wouldn't have happened during the usual exchange of incessant conversation. All affection experienced was at a heightened level due to the awareness that silence evokes. We were more fully present with ourselves, our meal, our surroundings, and one another. It was beautiful!

Mindful eating, also called meditative eating, is something we're hoping to practice as a family at least once a week. It feels as if we didn't just nourish our bodies, but our souls as well. There's a science behind it.. eating in silence has been proven to help with weight loss, and people who eat quietly tend to feel more full after meals. It also aids the digestive process. I love the model of mindful eating created by Thich Nhat Hanh that includes this beautiful prayer before meals:

"This food is a gift of the whole universe, the earth, the sky and much mindful work.
May we eat in mindfulness so as to be worthy of it.
May we transform our unskillful states of mind and learn to eat in moderation.
May we take only foods that nourish us and prevent illness.
May we accept this food to realize the path of understanding and love."

Hanh has a page dedicated to "Eating  Together" that explains it beautifully here. We are blessed when we can practice this a few times a year at spiritual retreats, but I can only imagine the benefits of establishing it as a regular family practice, with those whom we share such a personal bond. I'm so grateful for what we experienced this evening, and hope others can give it a try. I hear it's great for couples, too, especially during breakfast time; a perfect contrast to people's hurried lives.