The Egg Scramble Meditation

"When you are present, when your attention is fully in the Now, the Presence will flow into and transform what you do. There will be quality and power in it." - Eckhart Tolle

I have deemed this summer, the summer of 2013, the Summer of Mindfulness.  I have made a commitment to practice mindfulness techniques as often as I remember to.  This morning's meditation was done as I prepared and ate and cleaned up after I ate my eggs.  Here's instructions on how to do this yourself.

First, think of what you are going to make.  I decided I would have an egg scramble.  I looked into my refrigerator and I had some leftover veggies, some eggs and some cheese.  

Pull out all of your ingredients.  Arrange them on your counter.  If your counter is not clean, first move stuff out of the way and wipe down an area that you can use.

Pull out your tools.  I needed a frying pan, a spatula, a spoon, a plate and a fork.  I also needed my coconut oil.  Arrange them on the counter.  (The frying pan can go on the stove.)

Take a moment and look at what you have and to be grateful for the ingredients and the tools.

Turn your stovetop on, but don't flick it on like usual.  Mindfully find just the right setting. 

Open your oil.  Mine was coconut.  Open the lid and smell it.  Enjoy the aroma of the oil.  Take a spoon and measure out how much oil you want in your pan, don't just pour it this time.  Slowly and purposefully spoon out some oil into your pan.  Put away the oil and wash your spoon.  Watch the oil.  Notice how it changes how it moves and looks as it heats up.  

Wait for just the right temperature.  I like to hold my hand above the pan to test how much heat is in there.  I feel it in my palm and my fingers.  I try to guess when the oil is hot.  

Drop in a vegetable and see if it sizzles just right.  Today, mine didn't.  The oil wasn't hot enough.  So I watched and I waited for the piece of onion to start to sizzle.  Don't get distracted while you wait.  Don't move away.  Just watch, listen, smell and enjoy the moment.

When the oil and the onion started sizzling to my satisfaction I added the rest of the veggies.  Then I watched them.  I smelled them.  And then I named them: Onion, green pepper, red pepper, yellow pepper, mushrooms.  I reached for the spices that are always next to my stove.  I picked up the garlic powder, opened the lid and wafted the aroma toward my nose.  Then I sprinkled some in the pan.  I did the same with the onion powder and paprika.  I poured a little salt into my palm and sprinkled it over the vegetables as well.  When it looked like the vegetables had gotten a little color, I flipped them over.  I examined them.  I poked them a little and prodded them to see what they looked like.  And I waited for them to finish on that side as well.  This part was difficult for me.  I wanted to put the eggs in now, but the veggies weren't ready.  Normally I will put on a timer, go do something else and come back to check when the timer goes off.  Today I stayed.  I watched.  I listened.  I smelled.  

And when they seemed just right I picked up an egg.  Held it.  Thought of the chicken it came from.  Thanked the chicken and the farmer.  And cracked it in the pan.  And then the same with the second, and the third.  I broke open the yolks with my spatula.  And then I stirred and waited, stirred and waited.  I watched for the eggs to be just right before I touched them again.  When everything looked just about done I added a slice of aged gouda.  I put it right on the top and then watched it melt.  It was a beautiful thing.  I watched as the sliced edges started to round.  I watched as the color began to darken just slightly, something I had never noticed before.  I watched as the flat slice began to droop and take on the shape of the eggs beneath.  And I watched as the last corner, the furthest from the heat, finally drooped and melted onto the eggs.

I carefully slid the eggs from the pan onto my waiting plate.  And then I washed the pan and the spatula.  I took my time.  I smelled the eggs waiting behind me on my plate and I paid attention to the hot pan as I poured water on it to cool it, then put soap on a sponge and rubbed it clean.  I carefully washed the spatula, felt the shape of the spatula beneath my fingers.  

And finally, it was time to eat my eggs.  I ate my eggs as mindfully as I had made them.  One bite at a time.  With each bite I closed my eyes to taste what was in it.  I chewed it thoroughly and felt the texture of the bite.  Each bite was a little different.  The urge to rush would arise every once in a while and I would just focus back on naming what was in that bite.  Every few bites I gave each of my dogs a tiny taste, because dogs deserve to be mindful, too.  

After the last bite I resisted the urge to turn my thoughts elsewhere.  I closed my eyes and gave thanks for the food I had just eaten.  And then I took my plate and fork to the sink and washed both, slowly and methodically, just as I had the pan and spatula.  

You can create a mindfulness exercise out of any activity.  Simply do it purposefully, with your whole attention on the task at hand.  When you can, stop and really look, listen, feel, smell, and taste what you are doing.  Try this while cooking, cleaning, shopping, reading, writing, and whatever other tasks you might do during the day.  

What is your favorite meditative task?  Comment below.