“Which is better?” she asked. The lady behind the counter had just explained to her the difference between the two types of long, flaky quesita pastries beautifully stacked in the case: one was filled with cream cheese and the other was filled with cream cheese and guava. I heard this question a lot in places where food was on offer. The other day, a fellow diner I never met before asked me this question about the food at a restaurant I myself was eating at for the first time. Reflecting on my own experiences of feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed by indecision with people waiting on ME to just pick something ffs and both sensing and imagining their frustration, anger, and disappointment growing, I remember trying to avoid not just an unpleasant sensory experience, but also the unpleasantness of having been “wrong” and the unpleasantness of missing out on heavenly delight, all interacting with the need to escape the present moment unpleasantness. I’ve spent a lot of my one wild and precious life* attempting to optimize my eating experiences to avoid those sorts of situations.

“Which is better?” is really asking “What will I like more?” Consider that for a moment. I’ve found that it’s hard enough for me, who has lived as me my entire life, with memories of things I don’t like and like — and I think the memories of moments of displeasure are easier to recall — to correctly anticipate that. How can someone I just met have any chance? I guess if someone else decides for you, you can fool yourself into thinking that you didn’t make a choice and therefore didn’t choose wrong. “What do you recommend?” is also fraught. The person might respond with what they actually like, or, if they have incentive to do so, what they want you to choose for their benefit. “What do you like?” opens the door for the follow up question: “What do you like about it?”, which can help you prognosticate.

Not knowing can be fun, though. Surprise is an essential ingredient of delight. Delight is like enlightenment. Chasing it guarantees that you’ll never catch it. Being ok with not knowing is the key to understanding. It also deprioritizes the chase for pleasant experiences and the avoidance of unpleasant experiences, which elevates priorities like harm reduction and leaving a light footprint.

The other day, I considered what it would be like to aim for forgettable meals instead of amazing. That is, eat food that is nourishing, leaves me feeling light after I eat it, and is easy to obtain. This is what we aim for when we prepare food for our meditation retreats. We take great care to provide food that will nourish everyone and support practice. Too often, especially when traveling, I eat too much and eat heavy foods that leave me feeling too full, and full of regret, wishing I had chosen smaller portions or lighter things. When I try to remember what I ate, I don’t remember much. Maybe most of my meals are actually forgettable, whether amazing or terrible. Knowing that, it would be wise to aim for nourishing and effort-efficient. Maybe this is a wise aim for all choices.

*Thanks to Mary Oliver and the grasshopper.