avocado

I came home from work tonight, not having eaten since a meal at my mom's earlier in the day.  One of my Christmas presents from her were the ingredients to make guacamole.  A healing agent.  Despite the fact that it was 11pm by the time I got home, I walked into my little studio bound and determined to make some homemade guac.

I pulled the avocados and the lime and the tomatoes and the onion out of the fridge.  Garlic, salt, pepper.  I chopped up the onion, put it in a bowl, and then took the knife to cut open the first avocado.  I rolled it around in my hand, a little bit wary.  It didn't feel ripe.

But I cut into it anyway.  Slicing it longways around the pit.

Not ripe.

I laid the avocado and the knife down on the counter and just looked at it for a minute.

The very thing I wanted was right there in front of me.

But it wasn't ready yet.

I could keep going, try and make guacamole with unripened avocados.

But it wouldn't taste good.

Everything was ready, prepared, provided.  Except for the last ingredient.

I would have to wait.  I would have to wait if I wanted it to be right, if I wanted it to be good.

Some things just take time.