Fruit Zen As Spiritual Lipstick

Quite a while ago, I wrote a piece called Spiritual Lipstick.

Basically, it's about finding your joy in simple things; finding things that brighten your outlook the way lipstick brightens your face.

I try really hard to find something small every day to feed my spirit. Sometimes that's easy, but sometimes it's not. Sometimes those things place themselves right in my path, and sometimes, I have to really look for them. But it's always worth it.

Yesterday, I was grocery shopping, which is one of my most hated chores. So there I was in the produce section, feeling sorry for myself.

Damned kids....eating me out of house and home...eat, eat, eat, that's all they ever do....sick of cooking ....sick of complaints...sick of thinking about what to eat, what to eat, what to eat....

I was really working myself into an indignant, woebegone lather.

And then I spied a display of fat Chilean blackberries.

They were beautiful; deep blackpurple, plump, juicy and ripe. They looked sun warm and wild, though they were nestled in a chilled plastic carton. Next to them, sat cartons of furry raspberries.

I felt that odd little electric tingle in the back of my cheeks and my mouth flooded with saliva.

They were ridiculously expensive. Normally, I would pass them by and wait until they were in season locally. But I needed those berries in a bad way. So I carefully selected one carton each of blackberries, raspberries and strawberries.

Cheered, I finished my shopping with markedly less grumbling and headed home.

After I had put everything away, cleaned out the fridge and cupboards, and disposed of all the elderly leftovers, I washed my berries. I liked the way the reds contrasted with the dusky color of the blackberries in the white colander.

I have, on occasion, been moved to photograph fruit. The vibrant colors stir me, somehow.

I spooned a generous portion of berries into a cereal bowl and drizzled cream over them. I admired the way the it curled around the tender fruit, and how the juice made ribbons of color in the pale fluid.

I sprinkled some sugar on top and watched it slowly absorb the cream, turning milky and translucent.

I spooned up a single blackberry, popped it in and crushed it against the roof of my mouth. The skin plit with a satisfying gush, sluicing juice over my tongue. Cool cream, tart berry and sweet sugar mingled together, sending my tastebuds into paroxyms of confused delight.

I ate the rest like cereal, cream dripping from my chin now and then. Like a cat or maybe a small child, I wiped it away and then licked my paw, er, hand clean.

When the berries were gone, I tipped the bowl and drizzled the cream, laced with berry juice and sugar, onto my tongue.

I had satisfied my own hunger and it felt good.

Hunger for what? Hunger for something out of the ordinary. Something sweet and satisfying and a little bit decadent. Something I didn't have to share. Something that tasted of sunshine and fresh air. Something that filled me.

And do you know...those silly berries made me happy the rest of the day.

Fruit Zen.

I highly recommend it.