Peaceful grocery shopping that doesn't set my hair on fire

I used to hate to shop for food. The crowds. The narrow aisles. The large shopping carts. The people who perpetually block aisle entrances with their large shopping carts. The people who perpetually park their large shopping carts in the middle of the aisle. The checkers who seem to be competing in a speed marathon.

But I changed. A Giant Cosmic Tumbler hit me over the head, and like Siddhartha under the Bodhi Tree [or Tree of Awakening] – I got awakened.

I have practiced transcendental meditation since the 1970’s, in the privacy of my home. But now – lo and behold – I practice it in public!

Here’s what I do now when I shop for food:

• Take a deep breath and prepare to have a good time.

• Slow down – this means that I allow T I M E within which to enjoy shopping rather than trying to cram it in at the end of a busy day or when I’m rushed or not in the mood.

• Make a list ahead of time, stick to it, and accomplish it within 30 minutes. The longer you’re in a store, the more you spend.

• When I encounter someone blocking an entrance to an aisle – I have two choices [because I eliminated anger as a choice]: the one I like best is to stop my cart, lean my elbows on the cart, and wait. I become a Pause Button to All Activity. I wait with a smile on my face, marveling that the person blocking the aisle has no clue that there’s a human a few feet away. Why do I enjoy this? It re-affirms how unconscious most of the people on the Planet are, and not just when it comes to shopping for food. I also enjoy it because it teaches me patience. The 2nd choice is to wheel my cart over to the next aisle. Yes, I can get quite a workout.

• I never park my cart in an area where I need a lot of items, e.g. vegetables. Instead, I find an out-of-the-way of public traffic nook in which to place my cart and then walk back and forth to deposit items. Yes, I can get quite a workout.

• If not parked, then I make sure my cart is next to the food shelf and not in the middle of the aisle.

• When people are in front of the particular item I want, I wait until they’ve selected what they need. Surely I can direct my gaze elsewhere, or double check my list. Or breathe.

• I avoid the aisles in which I know I do not need the items that live there.

• When I’m ready to check out, I look for a checker whose hair is not on fire. Why? Because I’ve learned to read energy and pay better attention. Is the checker happy or sad? What else do I pick up and how does it make me feel?

• I avoid those staffers who stand about 10 feet behind the entrance to the checkout and try to corral people into a less busy line. I’ve learned, as opposed to my hair on fire days, if spoken to, to address them politely – “No thank you. I want to choose my own checker. I’m not in a hurry.”

• I have my recyclable bags ready, and, I’ve learned a trick: put the bag [which is always a double bag because more than once single bags have ripped] INSIDE the shopping cart because, for some unknown reason, checkers want to disassemble the double bag and then I have to reassemble it. If I don’t have a shopping cart or a basket, then I hold onto the double bag and before they start to check out items, I point out to them that I want to keep the doubled bag doubled.

• When a checker takes care to stack items in the bag rather than placing the egg carton on the bottom and heavier objects on top OR willy nilly tosses items in, I thank them for being careful and conscientious. These are the ones who usually tell me they like puzzles.

• When a checker calmly checks out my items, I complement them – and I get a smile. When I see them the next time, I make a point to say something like – “I remembered how conscientious and unhurried you are.” And guess what? When I get home, I’ll call the store manager and complement that checker. And guess what? The World Peace Quotient of the World raises a few notches.

• Last but not least, I hum when I shop. I like the sound of whatever song has made its way into my consciousness. It’s calming. It gives me something to focus on instead of the chaos and the noise.

With these implemented – not always 100% every time but better than it used to be – after all, the way you get to Carnegie Hall is practice – I leave in nearly the same peaceful, meditative state that I arrived in. And, I believe it affects the food I take into my body because it has not been chosen and paid for with my hair on fire.

Then, and this is the fun part – when I’m unloading the groceries, I thank it all for coming to my house.

Imagine – welcoming food.