Eat Like A Monk

After reading "The Angry Monk" in the Utne Reader, I was reminded of something that happened to me while on retreat and I decided to post it here.  I'm not sure why;  the connection between that wonderful article and this slight little story seems tenuous at best.  But here it is:



Several years ago I attended a week-long retreat that my teacher and his monastics were holding one summer on a small college campus.  There were close to a thousand people there.

One day, in line for lunch at the cafeteria, I found myself standing right behind one of the monastics.  On the spot I invented a practice for myself.  For that meal I would "eat like a monk."  Whatever he put on his tray, I would put on mine.

So that was how it went.  He got a salad, I got a salad.  He put soy sauce on his salad, I put soy sauce on my salad.  He got a banana, I got a banana.  He got a bottle of lemon-lime Powerade and I....

I just stopped, looked at him, and asked myself "Powerade?  Monks aren't allowed to drink Powerade.  Are they?" 

But even as the question formed itself I knew that the answer wasn't important.  What was important was that I really, really didn't like Powerade.

And so my "eat like a monk" practice came to a close.

I forget what I had to drink that day.  I think it was water.
Or Dr. Pepper.