Avocado Philosophy
Whenever I eat an Avocado, its always the same procedure. The excitement arises as I slice it in half, the anticipation boils up inside me as I prepare it methodically, lovingly though somewhat impulsively, a bit like smoking a joint, for example. The intention is to grasp its affect and take time to attend to its sweet existence. Its got that familiar taste, soft texture and creamy flavour. I know as soon as the idea to dine on such a fruit appears as a desire in my mind, that hedonistic version of me begs like a child for this minor pleasure, reveals that I truly do appreciate its delicacy by all innocence. Although I know before I register its progress from palm to stomach, that it will have been and gone before I can acknowledge its beauty and exoticism. I can insist that every time I eat an Avocado that I enjoy it, but in those moments I am eating it, I am never fully present with the experience. The second half greets me as I carefully slip the stone ...