It took me just over 48 years of my life to discover a simple truth…

Mango is awesome. I love it. It’s my favorite fruit, sending tropical tidal waves of pleasure coursing through my senses of taste and smell every time I partake in its extraordinary and tantalizing delights.

This realization is maybe a few months old. It’s not that I’ve never tasted it before; I’ve always loved indulging in the tasty mango dessert at my favorite Indian restaurant, Zaika, in Kokomo, Indiana. But I’ve become drawn to it, seeking it out in flavored waters, ice cream and trail mix. Recently, I threw myself fully into the mango realm, adding fresh whole mangos to my weekly shopping regimen.

Before I slide further down this slippery slide of mango madness, I’m going to digress for a minute.

I had my first book signing last Saturday. Barnes and Noble in Noblesville was an awesome experience, from the staff to the familiar faces and new friends who found Lucy’s Way, it was such a good experience that I’ve signed on for another event for December 13. I’ve working with my awesome web guru Loretta Tappan to create a gallery of photos from this event.

This coming Saturday, July 19, I’ll be at Marion Public Library Library from 1-3 p.m. for a book talk/signing. I think that most likely this event will start with me doing a short talk about the making of Lucy’s Way, so to speak. After that I think there will be a general Q&A and then I will read an excerpt or two from the book (if you have a section you think would be particularly good for a book reading, email suggestions to msaluke@hotmail.com). Then, the rest of the time will be devoted to signing books. Bring your copies, and I’ll also have copies for sale that can be purchased through PayPal, Venmo, or with cash or check.

That’s going to be a busy day as I’m then headed to my 30-year – yes, 30-year – Marion High School class reunion that night. I’ll have to duck out of the reunion early as it’s also my great nephew Axl’s birthday swim party that night. And let’s face it, a 30-year class reunion doesn’t matter to a nephew turning 10 for the first and only time. 😊  

Now, back to mangos.

It’s been a delightful discovery, this new love in my life, aside from some early relationships woes: my struggle to understand the right feel and ripeness of mangos to go after, and more importantly, making sure that cutting around that dreaded pit doesn’t lead to my dismemberment or death.

Yes, as it turns out, cutting a mango is a deep dive into mindfulness.

At this point, I know some of you may be shouting through your device at me, “Mark, there are mango slicers!” But that takes away the mindfulness and meditation aspect. And that’s what this whole mango manifesto is really all about.

Over time, I’ve discovered that food meditation and mindfulness practices are some of my favorites.

And then mangos entered my life.

I love food mindfulness because of the exercise in awareness it cultivates when completely honing in on the moment. It leads me to a deeper understanding and appreciation of where everything comes from, of my relationship with nature and the world. I’m well aware that if I ever tried my hand at hunting I would likely find a way to shoot myself or someone else, so I’m not able to get that close to the food I eat. But when it comes to things like fruits and vegetables, or the meats I cook, I find that the food tastes better the more fully I immerse myself in the process, from the cutting board, to the pan or grill, to the first bite.

Every morning, I eat half a grapefruit for breakfast, and I try to fully immerse myself in this experience even as the bustle of the day ahead is already knocking. Carefully cutting along the lines of each pie-shaped piece and then cutting all the way around the edge, I try to be engaged in nothing but that moment. Eating it, I’m intentional not to go too fast, enjoying each bite.

An example of food mindfulness/meditation I always give in mindfulness groups is the holiday Chex mix I make for family and friends each year. Sure, I have a process that differs just a bit here and there, but at the end of the day the process is very similar to what anyone else may do. Just like my introduction to the Tao through a dog, it took me years to realize the true secret ingredient to my Chex mix: my full attention and engagement in the process.

Granted, like most things, I’m constantly seeking balance with this. I’m the guy you will find standing in the front office at work stress-eating handfuls of Hershey Kisses without thinking twice. Not to discriminate, I’m also capable of doing this with donuts and other sweets, but there’s a humorous twist of situational irony with the Hershey Kiss element, as it actually took me a food mindfulness meditation with Hershey Kisses to truly recognize this engagement process (I’ve included the Hershey Kiss mindfulness recipe i.e. meditation at the end of this blog).

With the Chex mix, I become totally involved despite the holiday chaos whispering in my ear to rush through it so I can move on to something else. Many of us know that feeling, where the crunch of time tightens like a wool holiday sweater around our necks and we are finding any way to cut corners so all the gifts, food and preparations can be in place. When I slow down and do this process in a completely engaged way, I find joy throughout and the rush and madness disappear. I see yin yang patterns in the sauce mixture as I stir it, and I find myself enamored with the origins of all of the grains as I blend it all together.

Now, back to that darn mango. There have been times when I’ve gotten exactly two pieces off the mango because the outer skin didn’t come off how I wanted, or it was relegated to a slushy mess, or that pit somehow found its way into every cut I tried to make. I adjusted my cutting angle with the slippery sucker only to realize just in time that I was dangerously close to slicing more than mango. After I tried it my way, I watched google videos. They helped minimally. In the end, it came down to being deliberate about the mangos I picked at the store, and then taking my time and engaging in the entire process, slow and certain cuts, getting to know the mango as I fully involved myself in the moment.

Me and the mangos are making progress in this relationship.

Lucy taught me many things, but she did not practice food mindfulness. But I did. And my mother did. And my father did. I remember watching my mom make Lucy’s dinner once, stirring and stirring and stirring to make sure the canned food danced and married the crunchy kibble. And I mentioned in the book how my dad was deliberate when preparing things to feed her that he shouldn’t have been feeding her. Lucy, of course, would be letting off timed barks around every 10 seconds during this process as if the life was being strangled out of her starved body.

Hey, she had to work on the balance thing too. Now, I’ve got to rush off now so I can deliberately take my time cutting some mangos. 😊

The Hershey Kiss Meditation

I like doing this meditation in a group setting so there can be discussion afterwards, as well as a group leader who can place the main prop, a single Hershey Kiss, in front of you without you touching it. All that said, it’s a really good introductory meditation so don’t let my disclaimer keep you from doing it solo. And for my second disclaimer, I didn’t come up with it. I am humbly borrowing it from Dennis Allen, my former drug and alcohol counselor, who is today my friend and mindfulness mentor (talk about coming full circle). And with that I give you, the Hershey kiss meditation:

Begin by getting into a comfortable seated position (for any meditation beginners out there, it is not a requirement to sit on a pillow on the floor, legs crossed like Buddha, arms slightly raised into that famous ommmmmmm pose, but it’s also okay).

Once you are comfortable, take a few deep breaths, moving into a block breathing pattern (I like the 4-4-4-4 method, which is breathing in for a count of four, holding for a count of four, exhaling for a count of four, holding for a count of four, and repeat). As long as it’s a dedicated breathing pattern in which you are focused intently on the act of breathing, that works.

After a few minutes of block breathing turn your attention to the Hershey Kiss sitting in front of you. Try to focus all of your attention on the Hershey Kiss, this tiny little Hershey Kiss that could fit easily into the palm of your hand. What are some of the things you notice as you look at it? Does it make you think of anything in particular, perhaps a past event in life (I’m always reminded of the holidays). Looking at it, what do you see? The aluminum foil? The paper wrapper sticking out? The shape?

Try to think of nothing else as you focus all of your attention on this tiny object. Where did that foil come from? And the paper? And the ink on the paper that says “Hershey’s Kisses?” Where did these things really come from?

After a few minutes, pick up the Hershey Kiss, allow it to rest in the palm of your hand. Feel the foil and think about where it really came from. Somewhere deep in the ground, mined out by people and sent off somewhere to be condensed, rolled, processed into the aluminum foil in front of you, that you can feel in the palm of your hand.

Do the same with the paper, thinking of the trees and pulp and all of the people that had a hand in creating that tiny paper. Same with the ink.

Now, slowly open the foil so you can see the chocolate. Even though you haven’t put it in your mouth, can you already taste it? How did this piece of chocolate come into existence? Think of the harvesting of the cocoa plant, the milk coming from a living thing in nature, the process at the factory.

Finally, place the Hershey Kiss in your mouth, but don’t bite into it. Allow it to slowly melt in your mouth, and as it slowly melts think of the hundreds or thousands of people, plants, minerals and animals that went into making this tiny treat.

Now, stress eat the rest of the bag. Just kidding. Or am I?