I'm not cured.

It was all too easy. I was supposed to visualize the big man with the germs reaching for the shortbread and I wouldn't eat free food.

Right?

Wrong...

I was at a buffet tonight, and I thought, what harm could a celery stick do... and then four more celery sticks... and then some carrot sticks... and then, engaged in a conversation and losing focus as I was sliding down the slippery slope, I had a biscotti, and then another... followed by about three pieces of pita bread... to be finished off with a few handfuls of potato chips. Ick!!!

If I had just thought of the big man with the germs before I ate that first celery stick.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

I hope.

Cured.

I was cured today. Though not really by renunciation. Rather visualization. I'll explain.

I was at Central Market, and... It must seem all I do is go shopping for food. My wife might agree.

Anyway, I wasn't very tempted by the free samples, since I had a good breakfast and I was in a hurry.

I saw a big man reaching in for a sample of shortcake. There were tongs... but he chose his fingers. Then he put the shortcake in his mouth, smacked it down, and then noticed me staring at him. He winked and went for another bite (against my rules), not taking his eyes off me. This time he slid over the tongs, and reached with his now slobbery fingers onto the mound of shortcake.

Enough... all I have to do is to remember the sickening thought of those germs jumping off his fingers onto the mound of shortcake...

I was going to go to a hypnotist, or maybe read more of the Talmud... but no, all I have to do is to think of those germs and I'll follow in my kid's footsteps of not eating what's free.

I keep forgetting "thinking with your heart," the first truth that I took from the Talmud. The second is to control passion, and the third is to not turn down an opportunity to enjoy life. And now I have a reason to do all three, don't I?

In the meantime, I learned today that one of seven principles of Japanese aesthetics is Datsuzoku, meaning freedom from habit or formula. So now I have a reason to break my new habit... or not eating free samples.

We'll see what tomorrow offers.

Don't tell my wife.

I had some fruit that was ready for the recycling bin, so I put it into my Vitamix, including half of a rotten apple, a really soft grapefruit, and some once soft but now frozen grapes...oh, an old lemon as well. The I noticed I had some old Briggs Apple Cider Vinegar, so I poured some of that into a glass of the juice... along with some nutritional yeast. It was so sour. I finally found my match. Down the sink it went. How sad to lose all that good food!

Then I poured a glass of juice without the vinegar, and added yeast and agave. Not too bad.

Earlier I went to Wheatsville, our food co-op, to get something for dinner. I ended up just buying some eggs... which we didn't need at all. But I spent some time reading all the labels in their deli section. I don't like garlic, and almost all their stuff had garlic.

And they never have free samples. But I guess they saw me coming, because the woman behind the counter asked me if I wanted to try anything. I am a fan of their popcorn tofu so it crossed my mind that I could really take advantage of the situation and tell her I'd like to try it... but no, I said "no thank you." It felt good not to be a slave to every urge.

I was reading something in the Talmud about the rules for the sabbath. A man is not supposed to put his hand outside of his window, even to hand something to someone else. All "codes" have rules which seem arbitrary... like my new rule of not eating samples, or my kids refusal to eat from buffets (they both say, dad... the food has been sitting out.)

This issue of discipline is fascinating to me. Maybe all the rules are about teaching discipline. Containing passion, so to speak. Last night we were reading about watching your breath when you meditate. Someone asked how watching your breath could make you enlightened. The priest explained that it was just a tool. We read about a group of accomplished meditators who had to tell their teacher each day something new that they discovered about their breath. Was there anything special about studying the breath? Of course not. But is there something special about learning to concentrate. Of course. No one wants a surgeon that has "monkey mind."

Don't tell my wife.

into the juice and then added the vinegar... along with some nutritional yeast. It was so sour. I finally found my match. Down the sink it went. How sad to lose all that good food!

Then I poured a glass of juice without the vinegar, and added yeast and agave. Not too bad.

Earlier I went to Wheatsville, our food co-op, to get something for dinner. I ended up just buying some eggs... which we didn't need at all. But I spent some time reading all the labels in their deli section. I don't like garlic, and almost all their stuff had garlic.

And they never have free samples. But I guess they saw me coming, because the woman behind the counter asked me if I wanted to try anything. I am a fan of their popcorn tofu so it crossed my mind that I could really take advantage of the situation and tell her I'd like to try it... but no, I said "no thank you." It felt good not to be a slave to every urge.

I was reading something in the Talmud about the rules for the sabbath. A man is not supposed to put his hand outside of his window, even to hand something to someone else. All "codes" have rules which seem arbitrary... like my new rule of not eating samples, or my kids refusal to eat from buffets (they both say, dad... the food has been sitting out.)

This issue of discipline is fascinating to me. Maybe all the rules are about teaching discipline. Containing passion, so to speak. Last night we were reading about watching your breath when you meditate. Someone asked how watching your breath could make you enlightened. The priest explained that it was just a tool. We read about a group of accomplished meditators who had to tell their teacher each day something new that they discovered about their breath. Was there anything special about studying the breath? Of course not. But is there something special about learning to concentrate. Of course. No one wants a surgeon that has "monkey mind."

Renunciation Revisited at the Sample Bar

I went to Natural Grocers today to get brown rice. They have the short grain kind that I like so much. They never have free samples... except today. There was another cute woman at a card table giving away bits of nut filled candy bars. Nutrition bars, called Kind, I think.

I said no. Yea. I said no. And no just because I wanted to see if I could say no. I really wanted them. But I thought about how I could be in charge... and it felt good. Though I'm not going to admit it to anyone.

I explained to the woman that they looked great, but I just wasn't partaking of free samples.

And then I started thinking about renunciation, which one of my zen teachers said was the most important idea in zen. It confused me at the time because it seemed that renunciation is so negative (what other word has three Ns?).

It isn't really not eating the free sample, but more about walking straight to the back where they keep the rice in a cooler. So you don't don't eat the sample, and you don't don't lust over your neighbor's BMW, and you don't hold back from lusting because that's an action. At least, that's my take on it. You just go in the store and get the rice. Or you do what you need to do to see clearly. If your mind is on what you are giving up... like a free sample... like my mind is... you are lost... as I am.

So I Googled renunciation and found a drawing I made 3 years ago about it. It is a small world when you find yourself.

It was not sample time.

Today I went back to Central Market, this time to hear a wonderful Zen drum concert. But I was also assigned the task of getting some food for dinner, so I went to the cheese bar for some "samples."

Back to the concert, I sat next to a very chic old lady who was eating cheese and drinking wine. Her cheese had a thick rind on it, and was dried up on the edge a little. So she didn't eat that. How I wanted to say, "would you like me to help you with the cheese." But no, I contained my passion and left her cheese for the mice.

Anyway, as I walked to the cheese bar I thought, what would it be like to deprive myself of any free samples. But no, I thought, I was already deprived of that woman's dried cheese rind, so I deserve a free sample.

When I got to the cheese bar, I saw that they did have free samples, but pieces about the size of a broken pencil lead... ok... maybe a little larger. Anyway, I ate two and they were delicious.

Then I went to the bakery. They always have samples. I decided I would only sample dark bread, eyeing a bag in front of the loafs of bread. When I got there, I noticed the bag had some scraps of bread but no tongs. I soon found some tongs in another bag and then had a handful of scraps.

All in all, is was not sample time.

Shopping is not fun.

If the Gov. shuts down will I still have to pay taxes? US Male.

I like to wear large shirts. My wife says they don't fit and buys me medium shirts. I don't like them because they fit kind of snug, and then I feel constrained. So I returned the medium shirt to Nordstrum's Rack, and then bought a large Hawaiian shirt from Costco. She thought it was beautiful when I had it in my hands. "Oh, it is polyester," she said. Then she looked at the tag and saw that it was silk. One point for me. Then I put it on, and she said, "but it is too big." So it, as comfortable as it was, will go back to Costco.

I bought some tuna... or, kind of. I put eight cans in my cart. I figured I could have half of a can a day... and it would last sixteen days... and I would get some good protein. Then I went to the self check-out line at Costco and told the roving helper there that I didn't want it. I set it on top of the scanning station. I kept asking myself, "should I" or "shouldn't I?"

I've heard that we make unconscious decisions before we make conscious decisions. And then we rationalize to explain to ourselves and others why we do things. The truth is, we don't know. Anyway, I then switched sides (they used to call me "jelly Mosley") and decided to buy the tuna. I turned toward the place I had set the cans, and alas, they were gone. Problem solved.

Why did I write about the shirts and the tuna? It is the free samples and the Talmud that interest me most. So the Talmud says to contain one's passion, but to not pass up an opportunity for pleasure. I tried some great guacamole salsa and chips. The salsa was made by a company called Fat Tomato... or something like that. I asked the demonstrator why they'd call a company that. She said because they only use the fattest tomatoes. So not to pass up an opportunity for pleasure, I not only took a second sample (I asked first), even if it was against my "rules," but I put a jar of the salsa into my cart. I told the cute woman who was preparing the sample that this is the first time I bought something I sampled. She said she was doubly pleased, since it was my first time. I didn't tell her that her looks were the tipping point. I wheeled my cart about ten feet from the stand, and wondered how I was going to eat the big bottle in 3 or 4 weeks, supposedly its shelf life. I returned the bottle to her, saying, "I'm sorry. I don't think I'll be able to use it." "Well, thank you anyway," she said. Again, a "jelly Mosley" move.

One more thing. I've been trying to quit reading email all day long. I decided this morning that I'd just do it three times a day. Three is such a great number. Everything in Buddhism comes in three. Everything, that is, except for those things that don't. In any case, I lasted about 2 hours. I think it is harder than quitting smoking. Imaging knowing that you have mail in the mailbox but have to wait 5 hours to see what it is. For some, it is a piece of cake. For others (like me), it is excruciating. In Buddhism, we call that "an opportunity for practice." In the Talmud, it is an opportunity to contain passion. Passion? Maybe it is not passion that drives us to see if "I got mail."