I’ve tried so many ways to make myself actually eat the bananas that I buy every week… Pick the greenest ones so I have longer to get round to eating them. Put them in a nice bowl. Put them in a nice bowl in the living room instead of the kitchen.
But no matter what I do, they end up ripening to the point of disintegration and I have to put them in a cake (ah… cake!). I still have a banana that went London to New York and back last week.
I keep things longer than they want to be kept… tropical fruit, money-off coupons, old stories. We keep old things because we convince ourselves we’ll need them one day.
We keep old stories because it feels safer than having new ones…
‘I’m not qualified for my dream job’ feels safer than ‘let me go for it!’
‘He won’t like me’ feels safer than ‘I’ll talk to him’
‘I’ll just write one more draft’ feels safer than ‘I’m hitting publish!’
Like a banana, no story stays fresh for long. After a while it changes colour and turns to mush.
Replenish the fruit bowl… do new things so you can tell new stories… buy some kiwi fruit so the bananas don’t get lonely!
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