While I waited for someone the other day for a meeting, I was lying on bean bags watching the sun shine through the leaves outside, it was like they had created a natural disco ball, and I imagined all the small animals outside that nobody really notices were having a huge party underneath the shimmering lights.
The lady I went to see, had a conversation with me, she said I looked miles away, I told her quite simply that I was looking at the trees. We concluded that I was looking at the trees to recharge my batteries a little, I think then in that case that we should all spend time to look at the trees a little, because once in a while I think it is important that we all recharge our batteries.
With this same lady (who I think is a wonderful person I have to add) we spoke about a lot of things, we were supposed to go into the art room like we normally do, but a fire alarm changed things a little, it was sunny so we went and sat on the grass, and I didn't tell her, but even sitting on the grass gave me more things to think about.
I was playing with the grass on the floor, and I thought about the feeling of it between my fingertips. Brushing gently, tickling slightly, ever so soft and gentle, and I learnt to love it, because I don't take notice of the feel of grass very often, and above all else I think that shames me, I live in a world full of it, so why have I spent so long taking little notice of it?
And I thought about the sky. It was a brilliant blue while we were out there the other day, it was warm out but we were part in shade so I shivered a little, but we were away from everywhere else, or at least it seemed as though we were, we had started on top of a hill, and when it got too hot had moved further down, I couldn't see the building behind us, or hear the cars, or see the road or any of the other people, it was just me and the lady I was with (who I trust with my life) and I was happy to sit an talk with her, anything else could have been going on in the world but there for that hour we wernt aware of it, which was kind of peaceful. I made the lady I was with look at the sunlight coming through the leaves before we left that spot, I made her realise how beautiful it was, because I'd been with her for an hour, and I don't think she had realised on any sort of conscious level until I told her directly to look at it. But anyway, back to the sky. It was brilliant blue, and there were random fluffy white candyfloss clouds making pictures in the sky.
I remember once when I was little, this is one of the first memories I have, I was really small, we were in a car waiting for my dad to come out of a shop, and it was just me and my grandma, my brother and sister wernt born yet, and it was sort of tea time-ish but in the summer so still pretty light. My Grandma pointed it out to me, it was a cloud that looked like a giant in a bath tub, we could even make out where his arms were, and on one of them it looked like he was holding a sponge. I laughed, and spent ages looking at it, and from that moment always tried to look for pictures in clouds, I like staring at them, it makes me feel small, it makes me feel as if all of my problems are nothing in comparison with this huge universe, even those clouds in the sky, which are never going to be the same clouds twice, are taking up more of this universe than I am, so I dont have much reason to be scared anymore. After my Grandma had pointed that cloud out to me, I made a story about him in my head, I dreamt of that giant that night, and it's a dream which comes back to me often, even now though im in my teens, I still dream about that cloud giant in the bath. It reminded me of Jack and the Beanstalk, the story (one of many) which I begged for again and again before I went to bed, I settled myself readily with the idea that giants have big mansions in the sky, and that if i found the right beans I would make a stalk like Jacks and go and visit, but my giant would not grind my bones to make his bread, my giant was always nice, lonely but liked my company and I liked his, and the giant in the bathtub only made me believe it more.
I remember once aswell, being a bit older, walking home from school, I was feeling a little downhearted about an incident from school, and I happened to look up to the sky, and the cloud looked like an arm, with a hand at the end, it looked like a perfect hand, a helping hand (as I am prone to think as I have a mind that thinks in metaphors and always has done). I'm not religious, so I'm not going to say I thought it was the hand of god come to help me like it does in the simpsons, but it certainly gave me a little more hope than I'd had before, and it certainly made me smile.
Now, I'm thinking about the feel of sand on bare feet. How it dislodges between your toes, and makes it hard to get anywhere. How it feels warm, until you dig it up and get to where it is getting wet and colder.
And the feel of snow on your bare hands. The stinging sensation that takes your breath away. The silence that accompanies falling snow, everything is silent and peaceful. The look of freshly fallen snow, blinding, before anyone taints the snow on the ground with heavy footsteps, just when it is there, and untainted, untouched, pure and perfect. And when you do step in it, the crunch of it underneath your shoes. Last winter, I went out at 12.30am, and made snow angels, it was snowing, I could see the flakes fall from the sky in the light of the streetlamps. I had been ill, but none of that mattered, it didnt matter that I'd had a tough year, I was in the hear and now, making an angel in the snow. I took of my gloves, and placed both hands to the ground, and my handprints remained there for as long as the snow did, I wrote my name, and imagined that the image of it has been ingrained into someones memory as they walked by, and if they really put their minds to it, they'll remember the name that they saw written in the snow on the street as they walked by on that cold december day.
Have you held a baby this year? I have. and she pulled my glasses from my eyes, and then laughed as though it was the most hilarious joke in the whole universe! And I loved her for that, for pure untainted simpleness. For not wanting any more than finding pulling my glasses off hilarious. For not judging me for what I have been, for what I have done, but for watching how I am now and responding to that. For giving love so freely, without really wanting anything but love in return, a baby has the right view on life, and it's a shame that we lose that view as we get older, showing love becomes a more arduous process, it becomes harder for us to accept that we love someone, and slowly it gets forgotten, which is a massive massive shame.
What I'm trying to say is, notice the small things, feel the sand beneath your feet, or the snow on your hand, hear the crash of the waves, or a babies cry, or a heartbeat, or a birdsong, or even hear the silence of falling snow. When you breath, think about breathing, about what it means to be breathing, about what it means to be here, here on the earth with these particular people at this specific time. Smile for no reason, just because you can. Or, when you next see the sun shine through the leaves, imagine the little animals that nobody notices are having a party, and join them, be thankful for the things you take for granted every day, and most of all:
Keep Smiling :)
Love, Tutti-Frutti
xxx
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