Kiwi People – and I Don’t Mean New Zealanders

I like kiwi fruit.  I mean, I freakin’ love kiwi fruit.

I find it completely titillating that underneath a coarse, brown furry coat there exists a succulent and juicy green, seeded surprise just waiting to tempt my taste buds.  I also contemplate regularly the identity of the poor bastard who first said:

I betcha can eat that!

Beautiful things come in all sorts of wrappers … whether it be a radiant bouquet of flowers arranged wildly in a vase with the giver’s smile tucked discretely between the words on the card or the six-legged splendor of a lady bug’s grace veiled by a crimson and noir coating.

How deep do we allow our eyes to search for beauty, though?

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the immediate appreciation of that which we find alluring at any given instant.  It could be the simplest sunrise bathing the horizon in hues of coral and violet or just a looker of a man/woman we catch a glimpse of across a crowded room.  I wonder how much I’m missing when I choose to not look beyond that instant.

Would I ever have enjoyed the fur-coated striptease of the scrumptious kiwi had I not seen what the insides held for me?  Kinda like the first 3 zillion folks who looked at a kiwi and said “WTF!?!”, I’m going to venture to say oh HELL no!

People are much like kiwi fruit, I think.  There’s something about everyone in our lives that we were immediately (or NOT so) attracted to, each person’s own little furry brown coat of quirkiness and peculiarity.  I think that half the world runs screaming when they see something that doesn’t fit into their vision of peachfuzz happiness and that as a result, we miss a lot of wonderful things while tripping through life here on Terra Firma.  I’ve found the greatest, most long-lived treasures in my life through the things I’ve treated as kiwi.

I think of my best friends, my family, my passions (and perversions) – all have come about by my willingness and determination to get past the portentous pelt that was keeping from me the most divine of earthly and spiritual delights!  Those things and people who have brought me laughter and love, priceless memories and photos bordering on blackmail, the peace in my soul and the sound of its voice when prompted to sing like a Baptist choir in the Mississippi delta — none of which would have come into my life had I not gone kiwi on their asses and got down into the seeds.

Those seeds—a bit crunchy and unfamiliar at first bite.  As I get further and further along into treating folk like kiwi, though, I begin to anticipate that moment I’ll hear the first minute ~crunch~ as I delve deeper into their core and begin to see them for who they really are … past the rough beginnings, enjoying the journey through the sweet pulp of their day-to-day impact on my life.  All of the people I have in my life, each truly has a beautiful soul and what was once the intimidating being shielded by a daunting exterior has revealed itself as a juicy emerald gem with onyx pearls of individuality seated within.

Even if you hate kiwi fruit, surely you have something in your life worth peeling and getting to know better – something that could be a sweet surprise if you were only to take a leap of faith and let your soul perform the peeling.  Beauty surrounds us in every instant and in so many different ways that, while I don’t have the time to treat everything in life like a kiwi fruit, the thought that I have the potential to do so is just…


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