Tomatillos

Tomatillos come wrapped in a light casing. As they ripen, the casing becomes translucent and crisp, ready to offer the fruit inside. I bring that up because I’m surprised at how strange people are. The multitude are one way on the inside and completely different on the outside. To the public, those they work with, or strangers at a party, they can seem to be the most gregarious, thoughtful, caring person in the room. But to those they actually care about, they are selfish, withholding, judgmental and downright mean at times. Often the confusion comes out of the blue, a seeming attack on the best qualities of another. While the outside world sees a kindness unmatched, the inside world is caught in the crazy, struggling to make sense of un-kept promises, angry outbursts and thoughtless words.

Are most people narcissists? Certainly we all have a bit of Narcissus in us. We occasionally look in the mirror and see only how things affect us. But in more lucid moments, we are more likely to live life in the bigger picture, caring for those around us by loving what they need rather than only ourselves.

I struggle with these people. I make my share of mistakes, but I don’t forget certain behaviors I exhibit or things I’ve done. I don’t pretend I didn’t do it or blame someone else instead. I don’t have a bit too much to drink and act accordingly.

Get tangled up in one of these experiences and it’s an unending web. Grow up in one of these webs and it becomes a lifelong entanglement.

Anyway, back to the tomatillos. I found a recipe today for creamy tomatillo green sauce. Sounds delicious. I’ll leave out the Jalapeno peppers because there’s enough spicy around me to last a lifetime. I prefer my sauce to be flavorful and creamy. No hidden agenda of sass or stinging surprise.

So I’ll make enchiladas with black beans and cilantro, cheese and my cream sauce. In between checking e-mails, writing, keeping up with the requests of those who are sure they are more important than me (because timing is everything in these cases), I won’t lose my cool. I’ll meditate, drink water, try not to care. Sounds awful.

I’ll ride my horse and better my riding. I’ll learn to sit up and be heard if it takes me to the end of my days. I’ll care for my daughter and my animals and in their success I’ll nod my happiness. I’ll grab contentment firmly by the shoulders and I’ll hug it into submission. Someday someone will cross my path and I’ll feel joyous. I won’t know why but I’ll giggle inside. No question I’ll be swept and then caught in my doubt. I’ll write a poem expressing my passion. He might say, “Marisa is going to write a book about love…I’m going to be the last chapter.”

Hmmm. And maybe he was.

all rights reserved. Marisa Keller.