Packaging, contents… and choosing

Inspired to write today by Gail Boenning and her apples.

An astrologer once told me that, due to something or other in my chart, I had a tendency to go for good packaging and ignoring the contents therein. That has been true and not true, as these things typically are. I do tend to choose from the heart rather than from what my eyes are telling me, though I simultaneously choose beauty every time.

Beauty is said to be in the eye of the beholder. That tends to be most true when it is unconditioned and not viewed through lenses of popular misconception. Like how women show up in fashion magazines. Airbrushing is fantasy not truth. But fantasy sells the book. Publish the eye candy and receive the profits. Why do we let that be true? Nothing wrong with fantasy but when it is sold as reality we get into multiples, parallels and how the world really functions or… we get screwed.

I love beautifully formed fruit. I grew up surrounded by nearby apple orchards, drowning myself in cider every fall, learning every conceivable way to enjoy their red/green/gold splendor. Now, when I venture to the supermarket, I notice that the most beautiful fruit tends to have been waxed or polished or made beautiful in some slightly or grandly artificial way. And, by and large, in the States at least, it has no flavor. None. Had a strawberry lately? No smell and no taste means no nutritional value. That item not only does not feed your body it does not feed your spirit. Dead energy equals dead energy. Inertia 101.

I love going to farmers’ markets in rural or remote areas or in countries where “organic” gets a puzzled look because putting chemicals on or in anything is both prohibitively expensive and a ridiculous idea. At my local market you can smell the fruit that is in season when you enter the area. The area. Your nose leads you. The taste nearly drops you in your tracks.

I even found an organic (yes, they do use that term) burger place with a plain white exterior that most of the locals eschew completely. Why? It costs more than the fast food chains right down the road and it isn’t packed with people enjoying the food so it must not be good, right? And the marquee doesn’t scream “Hey, come enjoy the plastic!” They use real potatoes sliced skinny and fried in organic olive oil. They taste like the fries we ate as kids… well, some of us… whose kid phase was… well… awhile ago. McDonald’s never sold anything like these!

Then again, we never stop being that kid. The one who loves the shiny roundness of a perfect apple right from the tree… or the mango so fragrant and juicy it makes a huge mess all over you when you try to eat it, releasing its orange goodness all over those clothes that, in that moment, like that kid, you don’t care about keeping clean. You are, in that moment of absolute now-ness, enJOYing being alive and in a body.

So how did the slick packaging thing take us over? Kids love bright shiny packages too. Then they toss the flavorless/useless thing in the dirt. Bleah. Tastes bad. No fun. Last year’s holiday fantasy toy ends up in the bin. The kid didn’t ‘come enjoy the plastic’ or not for very long. It had no resonance. It was lifeless.

When I let that kid choose, she always chooses from the heart, from spontaneous enjoyment and almost unerringly chooses what truly feeds my spirit as well as my body and my life. She doesn’t buy into the hype. She actually sees past the illusion and feels what she needs and wants to ingest.

Packaging and content ought to do all of that. Provoke thought, certainly. Make us truer and more vibrant, absolutely. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, perceiver, and certainly creator. It seems to me that our standards of value need to reflect our inner choices. What truly nurtures, nourishes, acknowledges, accepts and cherishes what feeds us ~ inwardly and outwardly and always.

I’ll buy into that.

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