Oct 5, 2013

I'm Gonna Eat You, Clementine

It's the second full weekend of yoga teacher training. Today focused on the koshas and meditation. There were a lot of great takeaways and tons of interesting information given out. But I'm so tired right now I don't think I can process any of it properly, let alone explain it here. 

So instead, I will tell you about clementine. I ate my first clementine today. (What??? You've never had a clementine? No, I haven't. Get over it, I did.) Before eating said clementine, we closed our eyes and felt the texture and the shape of the little guy. We pictured its journey from where ever it grew up. (To me it was California because I don't know where  clementines come from. But I'm pretty sure it's not Clifton, New Jersey.) We pictured the worker who picked the fruit, the tree that it came from, and at the other end, the worker who rang up little clementine at the counter. We smelled it.

Why? The point was to first, give us an example of meditation, the second to show that things do not exist in isolation. About halfway through the meditation, I had envisioned the entire life of this little clementine, and when I started to think, "I'm going to eat you, clementine," I felt a little bad. I mean, the two of us have just spent so much time together. We bonded Clem and I. This is how his little life ends? For a second I even considered becoming a vegetarian, because if I just bonded with a piece of fruit, how could I eat meat? But then I remembered I love meat. I also remembered I hadn't eaten anything yet today and little Clem was likely delicious. 

And he was. Thank you little clementine for existing so that I may have a light afternoon snack just before realizing I was the only one at the table who knew Sting practices tantric sex. I mean, I thought that was fairly common knowledge. Hell, it's even in a Barenaked Ladies song. 

Maybe tomorrow I'll have something of substance to write about. 

Goodnight Internet. 

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