Kitchen

Sometimes, Matt said, when I’m preparing green beans, I’m not thinking about taking off their tops, I’m thinking about… Skateboarding.

One of the teachings of Zen is that meditation practice continues outside of the zendo. So when, after three days as a full guest, I began a brief period of guest practice, I continued my meditations in the Tasssajara Kitchen.

This kitchen has seen decades of practice, and its clean and well-kept tools bespeak mindful work. That precedence was the stock from which I prepared my soup. Already the foundation existed. All I did was arrive, ready for whatever might be needed and attend to my task with as much presence as I could.

With a small crew, I peeled and sliced a box of oranges, separating the peel from the flesh with a chef’s knife. The task took my full attention, primarily to keep my fingernails and skin attached while depriving the orange of its. It took attention, working the junction of peel and flesh, neither leaving peel behind nor wasting flesh by cutting too much away.

We worked using what the Zen practitioners call functional speech, which makes room for instructions and questions but eliminates the chatter that causes our minds to move too easily away from the task at hand.

I found, while working silently that I was open to beauty: the heart of a red beet shot through with white rays (beets, 4.5 gallons); the smell of lemon oil released as I chopped the peel (lemon zest, 2.5 cups); the feel of firm beans under cold water (green beans 4.5 gallons, yellow wax beans, 4 gallons).

Of course my mind wandered, not to skateboarding, but all over the country: to conversations, memories, plans. But realizing it was wandering, I brought it back to slicing cabbage (4.5 gallons, half-inch shred) or pitting plums (2 gallons, small chop) or washing my knife, drying it and putting it away.

Every task is set up with the best tools for the job and in a way that is most efficient. Bowls for compost and finished produce are set so each person can reach them easily.

The mindfulness bell rang. We all stopped, put down our knives and vegetables mid-peel. We stretched, brought our minds back to that moment, bowed, and returned to our tasks.