Enough Is Enough

Yoga inspires us to eat healthy foods, but too much of even a good thing is bad for body and spirit. Here's why it's worthwhile to practice aparigraha (greedlessness) at the table.

By Victoria Moran

"Don't worry about changing your eating—yoga will change your eating." This is what my first yoga teacher told me back when I was so young and flexible that even the extra 30 pounds I was carrying didn't impede my asana practice. The comment was prophetic—up to a point. As my practice progressed, I started eating whole-grain bread instead of white, and brown rice instead of Rice Krispies. I became a vegetarian. But in terms of sheer quantity, I ate as much as I ever did: snacks, seconds, the leftovers I couldn't bear to "waste," and so on.

As a committed yogi, I'd already begun to explore how the yamas (restraints) and niyamas (observances)—the ethical underpinnings of yoga, pertaining to issues such as nonviolence, sexual responsibility, and honesty—could help me transform my life. But skillfully applying the yama aparigraha, or "greedlessness," was beyond me. I understood the concept in theory—the importance of unselfishness, not hoarding, not taking more than we need or can use. But I had a hard time exercising aparigraha when it came to menus, picnics, and potluck suppers. I didn't like to think of it at the time, but those 30 pounds were made up of calories I hadn't needed and was, in effect, hoarding.

What's for Dinner?

It's difficult to be a yogi when your focus of concentration is on what's for dinner or the discomfort in your stomach from having had too much for lunch. These are familiar states for a great many people, however, especially in the United States—where more than half of us are storing enough fat to be considered overweight and a thirsty customer can serve himself a quart-size soft drink at any convenience store. The "small" order of McDonald's fries, the only size offered in 1970, looks stingy compared with today's medium and large servings. Fast food isn't the only culprit, though: When presented for the American restaurant customer, even healthy cuisines come in feast-size portions. Smart restaurateurs know that to be successful, they need to feed our greed. How did we get this way?

"Greed comes from a poverty mentality," says Cyndi Lee, founder of OM yoga in New York and author of Yoga Body, Buddha Mind (Riverhead, 2004). "A poverty mentality is feeling like you don't have enough, so you try to get more. If you go out to dinner and somebody wants to taste your food when they haven't even tasted their own yet, that's a poverty mentality. It causes a person to want more—more food, clothes, compliments, attention, anything." Curiously, affluence can breed this poverty mentality as efficiently as lack can, especially in a media-dominated society saturated with the message that acquisition and consumption are the keys to power and pleasure.

Mixed Messages

When it comes to food, the temptation to be greedy comes packaged in our culture as a curious pair of opposites: a dessert may be "delicious," "decadent," and "to die for," but having it show on your body is taboo. This sets up a yearning to both indulge and deny ourselves. Excessive yearning flies in the face of aparigraha. And this kind of want is a double-edged threat to the serenity we get from all of our yoga, meditation, and pranayama.

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