Author: Gianna

I recently reread the book, The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation. My professor assigned this book for the Buddhism class I took. I decided to buy the book after renting it for the semester, since I enjoyed the book so much. But I haven’t read it since, until recently. I’ve been thinking about mindful consumption, and how I could be more mindful with what I consume every day.

The Fifth Mindfulness Training

I think it’s too easy to say that Americans are consumers. Like, yes, as a society, we consume a lot—a lot of food, a lot of resources, a lot of goods. But consumption isn’t just consumerism. I think that as people grow more critical of capitalism and consumerism in the west, they forget that consumption is more general than just consumerism.

In The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh talks about consumption when he’s discussing the Fifth Mindfulness Training:

The Fifth Mindfulness Training encourages mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. This is linked to the Four Noble Truths and all of the elements of the Noble Eightfold Path, but especially Right Action: “Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful consumption, I am committed to cultivating good health, both physical and mental, for myself, my family, and my society by practicing mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. I will ingest only items that preserve peace, well-being, and joy in my body, in my consciousness, and in the collective body and consciousness of my family and society. I am determined not to use alcohol or any other intoxicant or to ingest foods or other items that contain toxins, such as certain TV programs, magazines, books, films, or conversations. I am aware that to damage my body or my consciousness with these poisons is to betray my ancestors, my parents, my society, and future generations. I will work to transform violence, fear, anger, and confusion in myself and in society by practicing a diet for myself and society. I understand that a proper diet is crucial for self-transformation and for the transformation of society.”

Here, consumption includes material goods and resources, such as food and drink. But he also brings up consumption of immaterial things, like conversations you have with others or ideas spread through media. I think a lot of anti-consumerist people focus more on the consumption of material goods and its detrimental effects, but they view the consumption of ideas more neutrally, or not at all.

My relationship with consumption

I’ve never considered myself to be a huge consumer because I don’t think I spend a lot on things. I rarely buy new clothes; I’ve had the same car for over ten years; I refuse to upgrade my phone until the old one “dies”; I make use of my library. Recently, I’ve started spending more, first on gardening materials, and now with skincare, haircare, and makeup. But I’m not a chronic or habitual shopper. I actually hate shopping, both in store and online. This isn’t to brag, but simply to explain how I view myself.

While I don’t think I consume that much materially, when it comes to ideas, when it comes to information, then I am so guilty of overconsumption. I will spend hours going down rabbit holes and reading lots of articles and watching videos just because I got curious. But I’ve never considered how overconsumption in these areas could be damaging in its own way.

Ideas and mindful consumption

In the same chapter, Thich Nhat Hanh writes this:

Certain television programs, books, magazines, and conversations can bring into our consciousness violence, fear, and despair. We have to practice mindful consumption to protect our body and consciousness and the collective body and consciousness of our family and society.

When I think about the sorts of things that bring violence, fear, and despair into my mind, I usually think of the news. The news is full of images and stories of violence and hate, and then that is spread through social media. I recognize that there are other forms of media that could bring violence, fear, and despair into our consciousness. There is plenty of fiction out there across all genres and mediums that heavily feature violence, for example. But even so, my mind immediately thinks of the news, because the news is what tends to bring about the feelings of fear and despair inside me.

I don’t think Thich Nhat Hanh is suggesting that we need to completely tune out everything that could be upsetting. He certainly didn’t in his own life. According to the biographical overview on Plum Village’s website, which you can read by clicking here, he founded the Engaged Buddhism movement in response to war in Vietnam. He traveled to the US and Europe to advocate for peace in Vietnam, and as a result was exiled from his country, an exile that lasted 39 years.

Thich Nhat Hanh wasn’t ignorant of violence and suffering in his own life. This doesn’t mean that he must be right. But when he wrote the above sentence about mindful consumption in 1998, I don’t think he meant that we have to ignore “the news” and the reality of the violence, fear, hatred, and suffering in our world.

Recently, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by the negativity proliferated through social media. I feel guilty for not doing more and also feel like I will never be able to do enough.

But these words provided me with some reassurance. We can be informed and present with reality while consuming the information mindfully. We can acknowledge suffering and not be consumed or paralyzed by it.

Practicing mindful consumption: social media

Mindful consumption is about being aware of the information you ingest as well as the material goods, and aware of the effects these things have on you. Once you’re aware of the effects, then it’s about choosing things you know are healthy and beneficial for you. Mindful consumption isn’t about eliminating consumption. That wouldn’t be very practical. We’re humans, after all, and we will consume food and resources and ideas no matter what.

I’m going to use social media as my example. Right now, my relationship with social media is mostly “I hate it.” I hate social media because it seems like a near constant reminder that we are suffering, and I end up feeling overwhelmed, angry, sad, fearful, or hopeless.

One option is to completely disengage with social media. I could delete all my accounts and never go on social media ever again. That would be one way to limit the information I receive and protect myself.

I follow a dietitian on Instagram, Dalina Soto, or @your.latina.nutritionist. Throughout her social media posts, she emphasizes the idea of adding nutrition to meals, rather than eliminating nutrition. Instead of eliminating sugars or carbs, she encourages people to add fiber or protein so that their food is both more filling and more enjoyable. She’s talking about literal food, but I think that we can approach consuming ideas and information the same way.

We shouldn’t ignore the suffering of others or the suffering we experience ourselves. We don’t have to plug our ears and go “lalala” and pretend nothing bad is happening. But we can make an effort to consume things that are pleasant and fun. We can seek out things that nourish joy, hope, and love, and pay attention to the good things that are right here.

Consume or be consumed

The alternative to consuming mindfully is to be consumed. This is just as true for ideas as it is for material goods. Consumed by your greed, or your anger, or your fear, you’re no longer in control. You are the one being consumed, not the other way around.

Not to sound dramatic, but I was beginning to feel like everywhere I turned to look was suffering. Social media was only giving me two options—insipid frivolity or reminders of everything terrible in the world. And fed up with everything I saw, not wanting to read anything or watch anything anymore, I picked up this book that I kept ten years ago from college. I like to think that I subconsciously knew I would find the book useful now.

I can’t pretend to have the wisdom of a Zen Buddhist monk like Thich Nhat Hanh. But I thought that if I found this beneficial, then maybe others would too. I hope you think about the things you’re ingesting and what you can do to be more aware of them, of how they make you feel, and to choose differently. 

I’ve been thinking about consistent action, and as I did I remembered the fable of the tortoise and the hare. The moral of the story is “slow and steady wins the race.” People will often give the same advice in different ways:

• If you want to get something done, break it down into smaller actionable steps.
• If you want to improve your life, make one change to your day and do it every day.
• Consistency will get you the results you’re looking for.

This idea—”slow and steady wins the race”—is used for explaining how to accomplish virtually anything, from building new habits to achieving complex goals. You make more progress when you focus on consistent, sustainable action, rather than doing things in overextended spurts.

And I agree with this sentiment, for the most part. Consistent action is generally easy to sustain for the long term. Committing to something long-term helps us achieve most goals we set for ourselves. It’s not flashy or exciting or hyped up, which I find more convincing than anything that promises quick fixes or instant results.

But even though I agree with this type of advice, I still find it really difficult to put into practice. I even find myself thinking in ways that contradict this advice. So I’ve been reflecting on my own thought patterns, why I think the way I do, and what I might do differently moving forward. I hope that sharing my insights into my own behavior and habits will help you overcome any obstacles you have so that you can be more consistent in working towards your own goals.

Proof of my consistent action, past and present

Now, I would say that I’ve already worked on my own ability to be consistent and I’ve had some success. Some things I’ve done that require me to put in pretty consistent effort—

• I’ve finished writing a novel. Actually not just one, but a couple, of varying degrees of quality. But even writing a bad or mediocre novel requires a lot of consistent effort.
• I maintain a vegetable garden. While my dedication to my garden waxes and wanes, I still generally put in consistent effort to start seeds, transplant seedlings, water the garden, pull weeds, and so on.
• In the past, I’ve been able to maintain both a regular meditation practice and a regular exercise schedule, sometimes even at the same time.

I’m not saying this to brag. What I’m saying is that I’ve been consistent before, and I know that it pays off. Even so, I find myself lapsing into less beneficial patterns of inaction followed by huge bursts of action. And then I get really down on myself, because I know better, and yet I don’t do better.

Sometimes, before you can apply your commitment to consistency to a new area, it helps to look back on other times you were consistent. Maybe it was related to your health, creative or personal projects, or your relationships with others.

Sometimes I find myself convinced that I can’t stick to a routine, but that is not supported by the evidence. I have been able to stick to routines, to develop new habits, and I’ve enjoyed the benefits of these efforts. This means that I can do the same for whatever new thing I’m hoping to accomplish.

So after reminding myself that I can, in fact, be consistent and dedicated, it’s time to consider how to approach the effort itself so that I’m most likely to sustain it.

Frequency vs. duration

When it comes to doing something more, you could think of it two ways.

• Frequency, or how often you do something
• Duration, or how much time you spend doing something

I’m going to use “writing a novel” as my example, but I think that this applies to just about any goal we set for ourselves.

It’s possible to marathon-write a novel. It’s possible to sit down and churn out thousands of words without a break. I don’t mean like a “writing a novel in a month” challenge. I mean “writing a novel in one sitting for however long it takes until the novel is done.”

While it is possible to write a novel in one sitting, it’s an unrealistic approach. Most people wouldn’t try to write a whole novel at once, but they often come up with arbitrary rules. “I must write X amount of words or for X amount of time.” These rules sound reasonable, and they’re meant to be motivating and make your next steps concrete. However, they could be sabotaging your efforts, especially if you find yourself thinking this way:

• I said I would write for thirty minutes, but I only have ten minutes. That means I can’t write.
• I said I would write a thousand words, but I’ve only written a hundred words. If I can’t write a thousand words, I’m better off not writing at all.

These rules focus on the duration of the activity, how long you do it or how much you accomplish. And there’s a time and place to set these types of concrete rules to help you monitor your progress. But for some people, focusing on the duration causes negative limiting thoughts like the ones above. These thoughts convince you that doing “less” of what you intended is worse than doing nothing at all. As a result, you don’t do anything. Then you’re frustrated by your lack of progress, and you know your lack of progress is because you haven’t put in the consistent action needed to achieve your goals.

For me, focusing on frequency instead of duration is the first step towards making progress. Rather than setting a goal for a time or a word count, I just think, “Did I work on my novel today?” and if the answer is yes, then it was a success. When I focus more on showing up, when I use frequency as the metric instead of duration, then it’s easier for me to feel that sense of daily small success that helps maintain the momentum of consistent action.

The fantasy of the finish line

One reason we don’t work towards our goals is the self-defeating thinking that because we can’t do something perfectly, there’s no point doing it at all. But I think another culprit for our inaction is this fantasy of what it will be like to be finished, instead of thinking about the daily reality of working towards the goal. I’m calling this the fantasy of the finish line.

For better or worse, I think we’re obsessed with the idea of achievement. We want the glamor of a finish line, some clear sign that we have “made it” or accomplished something. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to achieve, exclusively fantasizing about the finish line ignores that the finish line is a brief moment. Marathon runners spend months training before the marathon, and the marathon itself takes several hours to complete. But crossing the finish line takes seconds. I often find myself forgetting that for most accomplishments, there is a lot of work and dedication that happens before the moment of external success. And it is just that—one moment, compared to hours, months, years of effort.

Because we’re obsessed with the end result, and because we just want to get to that end as quickly as possible, we’ll skimp on developing good habits: we’ll cram studying into a single night, or we’ll fall for outlandish advice for a quick fix. Instead of fantasizing about the finish line, I think we need to shift our focus to the reality of doing.

When we focus on the reality of doing, rather than the fantasy of the finish line, we recognize that success doesn’t happen overnight. We remember that huge success is the result of smaller “micro” successes, such as the success of showing up for yourself day after day. And it’s easier to embrace the idea that consistent action, however small, helps us make progress towards our goals.

When it’s right to focus on duration

There are times when focusing on duration is helpful, and I’m going to share how I think of duration so that it’s more beneficial to me. Since it can be hard to stay motivated when you don’t see your efforts paying off, focusing on duration can help.

When we set a concrete goal, it can help us internally validate our own success. I still think you should focus on frequency first, but I’m guessing most people will want to combine frequency and duration. So I think that setting a really small, manageable goal is the way to start. You can then slowly work on building your ability to be consistent.

If we go back to the novel writing example, instead of setting your goal for an hour, set your goal for five minutes. Instead of saying you’ll write a thousand words, say you’ll write fifty words. I think starting out really small, small enough where you’re almost guaranteed success, is the way to go.

Using duration in this way, and then building up the duration of your efforts over time based on what is reasonable for you, can help you “see” your efforts paying off. And that can help you experience the positive mental feedback needed to practice consistent action.

Consistent action and trusting the process

As tempting as it is to want to do everything all at once (and I am super guilty of this type of thinking) trying to speedrun all your goals won’t help you. We fool ourselves because sometimes it works out—you cram for the test and end up acing it, for example. But to make the sort of meaningful progress that could potentially change your life? You’ll have to put in the effort.

I want to talk about one last challenge to being consistent, or at least, I find it very challenging. It’s the challenge of trusting the process. Because despite my best efforts, I have an extremely cynical inner critic who likes to undermine those efforts. These thoughts go something like this:

• So what if you made some progress? You’ll never achieve what you set out to do, so the effort doesn’t matter.
• Even if you accomplish what you set out to do, who is going to care? And if no one else cares, then the effort doesn’t matter.

I wanted to challenge these thoughts here in case you have trouble with them too.

• To the first point, if I’m making progress, then I will eventually achieve what I set out to do.
• And to the second, if I care, then the effort does matter.

When you’re making incremental progress, the change is so gradual that it sometimes doesn’t feel like change at all. And yet it is. If I had believed all my thoughts, I would never have finished a novel or started a garden.

The same can be said for a lot of other goals, like meditation or exercise. It takes several weeks for the benefits of regular meditation to be felt, and in the meantime, you just have to trust that it will help. But it’s hard for me to have faith that things are eventually going to work out and change. And the inner cynic can be very persuasive, so sometimes it feels like foolishly having hope even though you only half-believe it.

And to be fair, developing a consistent habit or effort in one area of your life makes it easier to develop consistency in other areas. When you are consistent in one area and see the results pay off, it’s easier to be consistent in another area. For me, it started with meditation, and then exercise, and then gardening. Developing the ability to be consistent in these areas and feeling the benefits of meditation and exercise, or eating the literal fruits of my labor from gardening, made it easier to tell myself, “Ok. You can finish a novel.” And I did.

Again, this isn’t something I do perfectly. I still very much struggle with all of the above challenges, but I also know it’s possible to overcome them. So I wanted to remind myself of these things, and hopefully, remind you of your own capabilities.

Lately, I’ve been exploring lots of beauty content, primarily on YouTube. And admittedly, I’ve probably overconsumed beauty content at this point. But being who I am, I have thought about if there might be a deeper, underlying reason for this particular interest over other methods of escapism. While a few personal reasons spring to mind, I wondered if there could be something deeper to the pursuit of beauty I was on.

As I reflected, I remembered my Aesthetics class in college, which dealt with questions regarding beauty and “the beautiful.” Beauty is an ideal, like truth or justice, and people have often dedicated their lives to the pursuit of their favorite ideal. But to me, it seems that when it comes to ideals, beauty ends up last. When compared to truth or justice, beauty seems superficial. How can the pursuit of beauty lead to betterment of yourself the way that pursuing truth can? How can pursuing beauty lead to betterment of society the way pursuing justice can? If you pursue beauty, what good does that do, for yourself or for anyone else?

While I understand the cynicism and sometimes outright distaste for “beauty,” I think that we’re being unfair to beauty. I believe that beauty is capable of inspiring us to live creative, joyful lives. Hear me out.

Beauty and its bad reputation

A lot of people hear “beauty” and they may immediately think of several negative connotations might arise. This is especially true if we’re talking about an intentional pursuit of beauty. The following are a few negative associations with beauty that I’ve come up.

Pursuing beauty is:

• Vain—People think beauty is just for vain people who prioritize their appearance over the quality of their character. Some people pretend they are morally superior for not putting effort into their appearance. Instead of putting effort into something superficial, they spend that time doing something intellectual or truly beneficial. And of course, vain people exist, but pursuing beauty doesn’t make you vain.
• Conformist and privileged—When it comes to physical appearance, society often dictates what is beautiful or not. If your physical appearance follows these social norms, then you are privileged in ways that other people aren’t. I think ‘beautiful’ people can be oblivious to their privilege, while ‘not beautiful’ people might feel resentment for the unfairness. And there are many people who, wanting the privilege that comes with being beautiful, are willing to pay so that they can appear more like societal ideal, which makes them conformist. And being able to have the money to conform is its own form of privilege.
• Materialistic—Given the benefits bestowed to beautiful people, there is a whole industry around products that promise to make you beautiful. People buy things they don’t need in order to look a certain way. When their appearance isn’t magically transformed (because it can’t be), they spend more, and go to more extreme lengths to achieve a desired look. This can lead to obsession with their appearance, an obsession that looks an awful lot like vanity.

If we take a step back and examine these thoughts, we’ll see that they mostly focus on people’s appearance and related behaviors.

But beauty is more than how people look.

Beauty also includes the beauty of the natural world, the beauty of our cultures, the beauty of those things that fill us with happiness. I want us to think of beauty more broadly, and think of all forms of beauty, both human and non-human. The pursuit of beauty isn’t about your physical appearance, although your physical appearance could be a part of it.

The pursuit of beauty is about living life deeply and fully. It’s about experiencing life with your complete attention instead of being lost in your thoughts. As someone guilty of getting lost in her thoughts, beauty brings me back down to earth, back into my body, and back to the present.

Beauty, inspiration, and life

I think that beauty is more inspiring than any other ideal. Yes, some people are motivated by the pursuit of truth or the pursuit of justice, and I’m not saying that truth or justice are unworthy of pursuit. However, I think that beauty is unique because of how it feels. If you have ever been struck by the vivid colors of the sunset, or the sound of your favorite song, or the words of your favorite novel, then you know that you just feel their beauty. You don’t have to second-guess it or really explain it.

When we get lost in our thoughts, thinking about what is true or just, we get frustrated by how our present reality doesn’t align with our sense of what is right. The disparity between our ideals and our reality can be motivating for some people, but I think it can also make you jaded and apathetic. I know I have felt the “What’s the use?” attitude that usually ends up with my feeling frustrated and helpless. Our hearts grow hardened and cold, and with our cold hard hearts we are cold and cruel to each other.

But when beauty strikes our senses and our hearts, we’re brought face to face with the fact that reality is…beautiful. It’s lovely. There is so much beauty right now, and we don’t have to work for it. It’s there, waiting for us to recognize it.

When we have recognize beauty, our cold hard hearts might warm up and soften, just a little. Beauty reminds us that we have a heart that feels, not just a mind that thinks. It reminds us that the world is so vast that it can contain the worries and troubles of our lives and the most wondrous and precious things too. Beauty can inspire you. The etymology for “inspire” means to breathe into. Beauty that inspires can breathe new life into you. You are not dead inside; you are very much alive, and that is wonderful.

But sometimes we are uncomfortable with our emotions, even our positive ones. I think we are uncomfortable because we like to pretend that we are extremely and perfectly rational, and we want to completely control our emotions and not get swept away by sensation. (And by control, we really just mean numbing our emotions or ignoring them completely.) So rather than open our minds and hearts to the wonder of beautiful things, we sometimes choose to spurn beauty and consider it less worthy than ideals like truth or justice. We cast it aside as “superficial” because beautiful things “don’t last” and if it isn’t permanent and unchanging, then it’s not worth pursuing.

A beautiful thing is impermanent, but beauty always exists in some form or another. Embracing the mutable nature of beauty can teach us how to relax around the idea of change, which can make us more resilient even as we expand our capacity for peace, love, and compassion. If you train yourself, you will notice beauty every day. The blue sky, a gentle breeze, the smell of dinner, your friend’s laugh. If you pay attention to the beauty surrounding you, you’ll find your heart expanding and softening at the same time. And as you begin to notice beauty, you’ll realize that you can bring beauty into the world.

The pursuit of beauty: inviting beauty back into our lives

Because beauty can inspire and uplift, because feeling the pleasure of beauty can expand our hearts, I don’t think it’s at all foolish to pursue beauty. I don’t mean you have to develop some overly complicated grooming regimen or conform to societal gender expectations. I just mean that you take beauty more seriously by appreciating the beauty that already exists and by creating beauty wherever you go.

The world has an ugly side to it—violence and hatred and fear. And it has a beautiful side to it—peace and love and hope. Both sides coexist, but you can decide which side you’ll contribute to with your thoughts, your words, and your actions.

I believe that taking the time to truly appreciate beauty can open our hearts and our minds and show us that there is, in fact, a different way to live and think about things. We don’t speak of conquering, destroying, or neglecting beauty. We speak of appreciating, creating, and nurturing beauty. I think this shift in our mindset could lead to many positive changes.

What if you challenged yourself to live and think more beautifully? What would that look like? Would you be able to be still for a few moments and appreciate the sky in all its changing splendor? Would you speak with more love and compassion for others?

I hope you try it out. I hope you reconsider what beauty means, and how it deserves more respect than it gets.