Shhh, it's a silent breakfast

Mindfulness experts say reconnecting with yourself each morning helps you to start the day purposefully, calmly and in gratitude.
Mindfulness experts say reconnecting with yourself each morning helps you to start the day purposefully, calmly and in gratitude. PHOTO: ISTOCKPHOTO

"I don't meditate, so I look to other parts of my day to become meditative, including my coffee and breakfast routine," Ms Nina Zorfass, 30, a New York City resident who works in marketing, wrote in an e-mail.

Her technique? Eating breakfast in complete silence.

When she started this practice eight years ago, she noticed that she felt more prepared for the day ahead and could make healthier food choices.

Now, in the midst of the corona-virus pandemic, she has relied on that time to recharge while living and working in close quarters with her partner.

"Alone time is hard to come by in our apartment," she said.

Eating in silence is an ancient practice with roots in many monastic communities.

"Buddhists, Celtic mystics, Sufis, Vedic mystics," said Ms Ginny Wholley, a teacher at the UMass Memorial Health Care Centre for Mindfulness. "Everyone has a component of silence that is an inherent part of the practice."

Mindfulness expert Jon Kabat-Zinn founded in 1979 the centre where Ms Wholley teaches, to promote and study the benefits of practices like these in a secular setting, in part because it is challenging.

The concept of silent breakfast is simple enough: Focus on your food quietly and deal with whatever thoughts come up. But it is more difficult than it seems.

I spent several days at the Kripalu Centre for Yoga and Health in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, last October and silent breakfast was on the menu.

Signs on every table reminded guests that breakfast should be eaten in silence. Educational carousels of cards extolled the virtues of reconnecting with yourself each morning: It benefits your mind and body to start your day purposefully, calmly and in gratitude.

On the first day, I carried my breakfast tray down the aisle of the dining room, feeling the eyes of strangers follow me like some angst-ridden school cafeteria scene in movies.

I passed row after row of fellow breakfasters. Some shifted in their seats as I walked by, the only sounds the cautious clinks of silverware onto bowls and plates. Occasionally, a chair would scrape the floor as someone sat down or left.

"Our society leans into complexity and difficulty because then there's more 'value' to it," said Ms Cristie Newhart, dean of the yoga school at Kripalu.

"When you're first learning to become more present, it's like, 'Present with what? What do I do?' In mindful eating, you're bringing all your attention to food."

My mind revolted halfway through my granola. As a freelance writer, I have always had an unhealthy work-life balance, partly from internalising the idea that I should maximise productivity at all costs.

My parents were entrepreneurial people who successfully worked their way out of underprivileged childhoods. They instilled a tough work ethic in me.

"Self-care", I believed, was for people who had the time and money. Not working hard enough meant risking failure.

But here I was, at my first wellness retreat, trying to appreciate a bowl of berries and tail-spinning into existential dread. It felt indulgent and lazy to focus so intently on my food. I had a to-do list a mile long and a new mortgage to worry about. I was deeply uncomfortable.

"As someone who speaks nearly constantly, the idea of enforced silence seemed punitive," said Ms Melissa Klurman, a journalist in Montclair, New Jersey, who also tried out silent breakfast on a retreat to Kripalu last year.

Dr Ravi Kudesia, a mindfulness researcher and assistant professor at Temple University's Fox School of Business, said: "One of the funny things about starting a mindfulness practice is that when you quieten the external noise, you start to hear more of the internal noise.

"If you're not used to this, it can be incredibly unpleasant. The key idea here is that it's better to notice the whispers before they become screams."

I could not concentrate, so I let my mind run wild through its litany of worries and reminders. Then, like a toddler wearing herself out after a tantrum, my thoughts quietened down.

After several days of silent breakfast, I started to hear myself.

My concerns and thoughts, happy with their time at the soapbox, stepped back and stopped plaguing me first thing in the morning. I could focus on what was in front of me, without guilt, without obligation, without stress. It was an unusual feeling of freedom.

For Ms Deborah Vaphides, 62, an acupuncturist from Montclair, New Jersey, starting her mornings with a silent routine several days a week helps her feel more grounded throughout the day. She sits by her window and watches the sunlight stream in early in the mornings while practising deep breathing exercises.

"I used to listen to the news every morning for decades," she said. "No more. I know the news will find me these days no matter where I go. The image of the light changing during my quiet mornings stays with me all day and I come back to that peacefulness any time I need it."

This peace, it turns out, has a lot to do with our physical response. "When we're in silence, our brains and bodies react similarly to when we meditate," said clinical psychologist Lauraine Hollyer.

"Cortisol, which is associated with stress, decreases in the bloodstream. Blood pressure, breathing rate and heart rate also decrease. We can concentrate and recall more easily."

NYTIMES

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A version of this article appeared in the print edition of The Straits Times on October 26, 2020, with the headline Shhh, it's a silent breakfast. Subscribe