On the Origins of Mango Season

The “hows” are the domain of the Universe. It always knows the shortest, quickest, fastest, most harmonious way between you and your dream. – Mike Dooley

Two years ago, Mark and I were on holiday on the island of St. Vincent, and I was moaning about the lack of local fruit available. We could have strawberries and blueberries and apples – apples?! – but there wasn’t very much tropical fruit. Apparently the bulk of their customers wanted fruit that they knew. So rather than fill the buffet with local fruit, the company would ship fruit in from Mexico and the US.

Desperate for local fruit, I asked one of the locals where I could get some mangoes. She explained to me that while there was lots of other fruit available (which I quickly found and ate embarrassingly large amounts of) the mangoes weren’t currently in season. Thinking about mango season made her grin wickedly. She said that when mangoes are in season, they are everywhere! You can walk along the road and just pick them off of the tree.

She said that once she ate so many mangoes that she got Mango Boils.

I have never forgotten that smile and that image of unlimited, ripe, juicy, dripping, golden fruit.

It feels like abundance to me.

If I know one thing for sure it’s that we cannot dream big enough for ourselves. So when I think about what I want my life in Costa Rica to look like, I am deliberately casting my net wide. I will not be working with the hows. We are taking the leap and then following our hearts, because I know what I do want.

I want Mango Season.*

* We have invited as many people to stay as we have beds, and they have all come for rest and retreat and collaboration and community. They are all people whose art – whatever form it is – enchants or interests us, and the mixture is eclectic and delightful. The mornings begin with breakfast on the deck, Costa Rican coffee, and never-ending bowls of fruit. The days are filled with creativity and camaraderie and solitude and waterfalls and whale watching on the beach. The evenings begin around our enormous dinner table which is overflowing with delicious, local, seasonal food. The food and the wine and the laughter and the real, honest, open discussion flow through into the night. Everyone feels rich and juicy and replenished and abundant and connected. And sitting there, in the glow of lantern and candle light I know that I am exactly where I dreamed myself to be.

Mango Boils and all.

xo