The psychology of eating

In this series of workshops, we search for the story we tell through our eating and drinking habits — the kind of language that was the very first and oldest language we learned to speak: the language of food and the psychological effects of smell connected to it. This takes place in a small group, a circle of sixteen people.

Every human being has a completely unique relationship with food. One person is insatiable, another can barely swallow a bite; some devour their meals, others nibble slowly; one person eats hesitantly and slowly, another clears the plate in moments; one body seems able to digest everything, while another reacts allergically to anything outside a strict diet. The list of human peculiarities concerning food and drink is endless.

The way we eat tells a crystalline story — a story that first and foremost expresses something about our relationship with the mother figure, about the way this very first Other did or did not recognize us in our humanity, about the way she was or was not able to allow her child to grow into adulthood and herself transform once more from nourishing mother into a woman for a man. What message did the mother give when she fed us? What meaning did the exchange of nourishment between mother and child receive?

In every meal and in every bite, a person tells the story of their childhood. In many cases, that story is never truly heard. That is why most people struggle with their eating habits throughout their lives — they fail to truly let another person hear the story they are trying to tell through their eating behavior. It is at the point where we can offer this story to another in love that the act of eating no longer leaves us drifting aimlessly.

Our way of eating bears witness to a trauma; in this workshop series we search for that trauma. But we do more than that. We also practice, in a positive way, the art of smelling and tasting food. The act of eating is deeply connected to the world of smell (and taste). The world of scents is the most inaccessible of all sensory worlds. Humanity, for example, has never developed an original vocabulary specifically for smells. Scents are usually described either with words originally referring to tastes (sweet, sour, etc.) or to objects (rose scent, leather, etc.). For that reason, smells are psychologically difficult for the Ego to control. Without words to name them, the Ego can only very limitedly defend itself against or manage the emotions and experiences evoked by scents. This is why smells often awaken emotions that cannot be stirred in any other way.

Both during and between the workshops, we practice recognizing 56 basic scents (using the fragrance kit Le Nez du Vin). In addition, we explore the world of materials, plants, and foods through the nose, listening to a story that in the hurried world of the Ego we rarely or never hear. Throughout the entire workshop series, we taste different kinds of Chinese tea, one of the products with an exceptional capacity to preserve and release the subtleties of the Soul through its aroma and flavor. As we gradually deepen our awareness of scents, we practice truly enjoying food and developing an original, personal food culture that allows us to transform the act of eating from a trauma into a sovereign and non-destructive pleasure.

We become aware of the experiential world that different scents evoke within us. Scents open the way to the Soul; they bring parts of our being to life that scarcely come alive through the other senses. Speaking about olfactory experiences and the emotions attached to them is an authentic act of sincere speech. To name a scent, for example, one must simply allow the words that arise to come forth. In that sense, scents invite us to surrender and to let go of the Ego for a moment. In this way, this workshop is a continuation of the practice of the art of sincere speaking.