As lovely friends of this little blog would know, I am mad for getting Big Bangs out of Little Things.
One of my favourites is when I’m walking or riding my bike or driving my car and I hear an ambulance approaching.
Of course, it’s terrible because someone is sick and they’re rushing to be saved [to have that beautiful heart re.started. Or to have those airways cleared]. You think about who it is and who loves them, who they need to get home for. That stuff’s sad [obviously].
But what I love is when I see everyone doing the right thing: cars moving to the side of the road, buses stopping, pedestrians pausing.
I know it’s the law. But it’s also humanity, goodness in action. And that makes my heart happy.
Do you expect a crazy amount of yourself? [yeh. me too].
Sometimes it’s a good thing: it’s good to expect yourself to treat others with an enormous respect; it’s good to practice big kindness; it’s good to encourage a high degree of curiosity and openness. Those things are good. Definitely good.
But sometimes those ridiculously high expectations we have of ourselves can be unhelpful.
My Lovely One and I are currently navigating our way through the first months with our tiny, lovely, breathtakingly amazing, sweet girl. I have read all those books that say it’s ok in these early days not to do the washing or clean the floor or scrub the bath or write an article or broker a deal or come up with life.altering philosophies. I know that. I agree! [Of course.]
But why then, did I find myself last week baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies? [In my defence, they were heart.stoppingly good. And I do love baking.] But still. When I think about it, the reason I felt the need to whip them up was to prove something to myself. To show myself that I was On Top of Things. That I was Doing OK!
He tells me: you’re doing beautifully. And mostly I believe. [After all, as he points out, our little one is fed and safe and we are all happy and healthy and together]. But still, I find myself striving for these self-imposed, arbitrary and unnecessary markers of Doing.A.Great.Job.
One of my favourite things is hearing people sing, as they make their way.
Little snippets of tunes hummed: the garbage man; a grandma to a baby; kids on scooters; two school girls [in beautiful harmony]; the delivery guy; a man in a suit; the lady with the Whippet.
These people drift pass my window and their songs lift my day.
A beautiful friend of mine made me a gift: felt clouds and raindrops, to hang. [so lovely]
I was watching it today while I was on the phone to My Beautiful Dad. He had just received some bad news. His closest friend, who he has known for 72 years, is in the hospital. [Can you imagine being friends with someone for 72 years? Me neither]. Now she is very sick and all he can do is go and hold her hand. Just thinking about old friends sitting, holding hands in a hospital room makes me want to cry.
So after we hung up, I sat for a while and watched my clouds and raindrops. And I gave quiet thanks for all that I have.