I have a confession which will come as no surprise to some of you. I really, really, really do NOT enjoy going to the grocery store or cooking. I once (here comes another confession) bought the ingredients for a meal (pasta and sauce) at the gas station just to avoid the grocery store across the parking lot. I hate it that much.

There is nothing about the process I find interesting or exciting.

Luckily my husband is innovative in the kitchen and doesn’t mind preparing meals if I clean up the kitchen afterwards which I actually, strangely, do not mind.

Fast forward to today.

We needed a few groceries and I was already out at the hardware store (which I DO enjoy) so I decided to stop and pick them up.

The thought of dealing with one of the overcrowded, understaffed “big” stores seemed daunting and then I remembered a small unassuming Mexican Market I had noticed not that far from our house. El Puerto Azteca.

Surely I could find the few basic items, eggs, apples and toothpaste that I needed there.

I did and so much more.

The building itself is not that special. It looks, from the outside, like a convenience store. What IS special is what is on the inside. The people were welcoming and helpful and the store had a beautiful selection of fresh fruits, vegetables and meats.

I spent about 20 minutes in the produce aisle gathering bell peppers, hatch chilies and two (to me) unknown fruits. All I knew was that they looked beautiful, smelled amazing and were from Peru.

I had a thought that they may be mangoes but I am embarrassed to admit it took a text to a friend to confirm it and then a Google search to figure out what to DO with it. (Cut into sections, cut the sections into grids, turn the grids inside out until the segments “pop out,” eat, enjoy.)

Sitting in the sun with the dogs (who did not agree with Google that mangoes are healthy and delicious treats for your pets) and eating this mango made me aware of two things.

First: I have had mango before. In salads and smoothies and salsas and chutney; sourced and prepared by someone else. I remember my son as a young child asking me at dinner one night “What animal does chicken come from?” We laughed about it at the time but it struck a chord in me then that reverberated back today. I realized with my son, as I realized with myself today, that most of us are far removed from our food and its source. It comes to use prepared on restaurant plates or prepackaged from the store. By the time most food makes it to us, it is hard to recognize the original source. “Where was this before it was here?”

That can’t be good.

That is something I am going to work on correcting in my life.

Second: I realized eating that mango, really enjoying it, that I have been depressed for a really long time. It is one of those things, along with anxiety, that has been a part of my life for so long that I am not sure I would recognize myself without it. It comes and it goes and is never (usually) so bad that it interferes with my day to day life. I have had periods where I have taken medication and gone to therapy for it, periods where I have “toughed it out” and periods where it just disappeared all together for weeks and months and years at a time. Mostly it is just there, like my shadow following behind, so much a part of things that I am not really aware that it is there until something puts it into relief and reminds me.

The last few years have been especially difficult, losing both of my parents within a short time and drama with extended family really put a strain on my mental well being.

The mango was an “a-ha” moment for me. An “awakening” if you will. A putting together of the pieces. A sighting of my shadow.

I was halfway through eating it when I realized that I had gone to the store, found something of interest, washed it, “Googled” it, “prepared” it, really noticed the color, texture and taste of it. Really enjoyed it. I was “in the moment” with this fruit.

It was not a meal from the microwave chosen because it was easy and anything above that level was just not worth the effort. I was just not worth the effort.

It sounds so minimal and simple and ridiculous but it has been a long time since something that small has been so effortless.

I know that there is an ebb and a flow to these things and it is a constant give and take, but today, under the noon sun, with my shadow in retreat, I tasted the mango and it tasted like peace.