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Eat With Your Hands

This article about manners and eating with ones hands gave me a big smile.  One of my friends who went on the second India pilgrimage wrote on Facebook right after she returned home that she missed wearing a sari and eating thali meals already.  How wonderful the variety of experience on these journeys.  Personally, I found the sari cumbersome and binding and not worth the prettiness of the fabric and the compliments (more thoughts on sari-wearing perhaps to come).  I was thrilled to get back into my regular clothes (though I was happy enough in salwar kameez).  Dal , kitcheree (spiced lentils and rice porridge), and vegetarian/vegan curries have long been a staple part of my diet, so I am already getting the rice and lentils, and the south Indian thali meal is almost completely devoid of vegetables. I was happy enough to get back to my own diet, including Indian-style food of my own preparation.

I am missing, though, being able to be in company and eat with my hands (or hand singular would be more accurate as it is horribly rude in India to eat with your left hand) and getting the chance to walk barefoot outside every day.  Though you might not be able to do it everywhere, I highly recommend eating some of your food with your hands and walking without your shoes for some time every day to enhance your sense of touch and your motility.

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    Last week I attended a work-place training entitled “Conflict Management–Dealing with Difficult Conversations in the Workplace.”  I do not do much training at work; the several hours a week I spend doing professional reading generally satisfies the needs of my position.  When the offer for this two-day  training came into my inbox, I decided that it might be useful.  I am responsible for a project that involves several different offices in multiple government agencies all of which have perceived differences in agendas and jurisdiction and real differences in expertise and personality.  I am also about to get another new supervisor, and people in my division have been edgy.

    The training, which had about 15 attendees even though it was the Tuesday and Wednesday before Thanksgiving started simply enough.  We all identified ourselves by name and job function and where in the agency we worked  and then took the Thomas-Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument, which helps give a broad general idea of how one typically reacts in situations that involve conflict.  All pretty straightforward workplace training stuff.  Then the facilitator suggested that most conflict between people (and within ourselves) arises when our feelings of worthiness are or are perceived to be threatened.  My ears perked up.  “Anavamala,” I thought.  It’s just like what the tantric philosophers teach us, that the unreal cloak of unworthiness is what leads to suffering and discord.

    The workshop continued.  We did some roleplaying and engaged in discussion to consider how we can better lead the best out of each other and ourselves, whatever type of negotiator we are.  It was interesting to see how this fairly diverse group of workers — young, old, experienced, brand new workers of varying levels of seniority in the agency — were able to be engaged and brought together in exploring these issues, but nothing was particularly surprising.  It was almost time to break for lunch on the first day, when the facilitator asked, and then let drop  the question, without discussion or seeking a response, “what about love?”

    “What about love, indeed?” I thought.  That’s a word we do not hear in the workplace unless it is in an interview and someone claims to love their work, or it’s idle conversation and someone declares that he or she loves a sports team or a restaurant.  The next morning I commented privately to the facilitator that I thought it a great question, but was not surprised, given the context, that he had not discussed it further.  He said that he would bring it up more, and he did.  He suggested that when we love, we are more willing to allow, respect, and listen to differences of opinion; when we love, we are also more motivated to resolve conflict in a way that serves best those with whom we are in conflict.  This teaching made sense for most of the participants with regard to conflicts with friends and family, but it was harder for them to see in the context of the workplace because they did not think of love (as this society has come to classify it) as something that is part of the workplace.

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