Looking for Nakedness: A Pistachio Love Story
Life, in a nutshell
Are you still confused about how to find grace in small things?
Have some pistachios.
Unless you’re ambidextrous and can open them one-handed, you can’t eat more than one at a time.
You never know what nut you’ll get when you reach for one.
Sometimes, the shell is empty.
Sometimes, it’s sealed shut.
Sometimes, the pistachio has no shell and lies incognito among its beige and purple-brown brethren, a jewel awaiting discovery.
The first pistachio always demands attention.
By the second or third nut, you’re on autopilot.
And then comes the trance. You crack one nut after the other while your mind meanders.
Your fingertips get slick with salt and your thumbs start hurting.
You push through the discomfort.
You push through the pain.
You do whatever it takes to get to the pistachio meat, including biting into its shell and cracking a tooth.
Joy is a naked pistachio.
You probably don’t live exclusively on pistachios.
Joy is an instant, spontaneous, sincere, simple. It’s the surprise you expect, the high you seek.
Joy finds you.
Joy embraces you.
Joy empowers you.
Irrepressible delight beaming from within brightens and lightens reality. Life looks possible again, at last.
I’m a French-American writer, journalist, and editor now based in the Netherlands. To continue the conversation, follow the bird. For email and everything else, deets in bio.