Bananas

I just had a banana. One day past premo banana day, it was joyous. All by itself. Raw and pure. It stood alone. I felt it first because of what I did not do with it. I did not just eat while doing anything else. Did not slice in and put it in a bowl to be part of a wonderful Ice Cream Sundae. A banana split and celebrated along with the mother’s milk of Ice Cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and more than one cherry on top. I let it touch me as sure as Ice Cream decadence does…all by itself.

It came from Ecuador. Wow. Way down there and now way up here. Someone picked it. He, I suspect it was a he, probably didn’t notice. It was just one piece of fruit on a stalk of many other pieces of fruit and just another stalk of many other stalks of fruit picked that day and then the next. Rushed to time everything right to go from almost ready to the store shelf somewhere far away so someone could have a banana when they wanted one. He didn’t know that someone. He didn’t know that somewhere. He didn’t notice that banana. Just another day. Just another job. Just another labor. He had to work fast. The work was now and would last but a few weeks. His son needed his example, his daughter needed shoes, and his wife was making him a dessert tonight because it was their anniversary. He was happy to have the work, the wife, the son, the daughter, and cake waiting. He didn’t notice the banana I ate this morning.

I did. It smelled just like a banana. Bananas have a great smell. A smell of tropical things. They smell like a holiday on an island somewhere. A rich aroma of magical fruits that come in bunches and really taste heavenly. Then I peeled it. Slow and easy, partner. Took off its clothes and brought it from covered to naked and ready to eat. The peel would remain and move to my very own compost pile. It would shift. Change to something else. Dirt. That would be garden dirt. That would feed a tomato that I would eat, skin and all, just a few months from now. Today it was the banana’s turn.

It felt like bananas feel when they are naked. Soft yet not. Slippery yet not. I smelled it. Really smelled it. Deep. Let the smell bring back all the memories of all the bananas ever. Safeway bananas. Bananas on the rocks of Waterfall Canyon trail. Bananas in Alaska with Jim Philip who liked old, brown, gushy bananas. Bananas shared with the kids when I was the smartest man in the world and knew everything about anything.

Then I ate it. Slowly. Each bite a kiss of something important. I was Popeye and it was spinach. My muscles felt it from fingers to toes. My energy soared. Shazam! Banana Power!

Life was appealing, joy arrived by the boatload, and all was right in every republic everywhere. I just had a banana. Well, maybe it was more than a banana. Much more. Now I can share it with you. Just had to really feel it and understand it first.

Enjoy your breakfast. Enjoy every single thing you do today. Life is full of bananas.