Growth Spurt

There have been moments of clarity of late. Am a little astonished myself.
Not entirely convinced that it has to do with the sparkly magical new beginnings that new years are said to bring.
Maturation seems to come at strange times, in strange forms - certainly NEVER when you expect it.
A bit like miracles, come to think of it.

What I understand now is that the man, for whom I was inexplicably pining, and I have nothing but nothing in common. He never really cared (for me) or perhaps he was too preoccupied and arrogant or just simply scared and damaged.
That is fine, though. It really is. I am damaged goods, too in a way.
I mean, who isn't? But neither of us could have made the other one happy. I guess the more important aspect of this realisation is that HE could not have made ME happy.
I had thought or hoped for a long time that he could. Understanding that is quite a step forward for me. I am grateful for it. It's taken quite a bit of energy.
And now I can let that thought, that idea, go.

I'd be lying if I said I came through this "just like that" - clearly it did not happen "just like that". My "just like that" is inclusive of the struggle, the tears, the pain. "Just like that" also means the time it all took.
Paradoxically though, I believe in a way it IS a true description, like it did come out of the blue and easily and - totally like effortless...
Because it feels so right, because I feel relief, because I do not need to hold on any longer.

And since there is no need, no struggle now it IS "just like that" that I can move on. Is there regret? Is there sadness? Regret, no. Sadness, yes. A little. About the fact that I have made myself miserable and didn't understand that it was no fault of mine things did not work out.
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment (it's perhaps more of a process) when I felt that relief, relief for me, and when the absolute certainty came that letting go is the right thing. But what I know now is that everything else before was simply fear.

Suppose we are one another's teachers, I believe I have just learned my lesson.

The Winter Of Our Discontent

I have had a letter today. From my best friend.
The past months have been eventful for her to say the least. I know because I have been there for parts of it. So while reading her letter I could not help but notice that she sounded wistful. Like she longed for something else than what she had. Like she was desperate to break free.

And here I was all the time thinking that she had it all. Now, I am not so sure.

I am not so sure anymore about anybody whom I labelled successful, settled; anybody that I shoved in to a neat little box of "content" or "happy" or "with kids" or "married".
Because everything is not as it seems. I have noticed this in the past couple of weeks with quite a number of things. However, being me, I am never QUITE aware of this knowledge. At least not in the moments when I should be. It's that hindsight-thing again, you see.

Could it be that whatever happiness is, is defined by other people?
Is that the reason that we are all so miserable? So unhappy with our lot. So very deep in the Winter of our Discontent? I am not speaking of luxury goods and yachts and being spoilt rotten and still complaining whilst there are women, children, and men who do not have enough food to eat, no clothes to wear, no bed, no house to sleep in. That is undeniably happening in our world today but this is not what I am writing about at this precise moment in time, in this post, in this blog, insignificant though it is.

I am speaking of being strangely unhappy and almost cold in the face of the achievements in your own life so far of which you should be proud, which should fill you with joy and happiness, with a sense of self and a knowledge of who you are and what you can do.

My friend's lines saddened me. Because she described what I usually feel... an unwavering longing for something that will finally, finally make the voice in my head stop saying "Right, that's done. What's next!?"
Like a drill sergeant this voice has, I believe, many of us rushing towards the next task, the next hurdle and all the time we are wondering, will I be good enough this time? And then there is always the darker version sounding a little like this: one of these days they are going to call my bluff.

And when I say rushing towards the next task, I do not mean it literally but more often than not life does not have us juggling just one plate. There is never just one other thing that we must do. There are many. We are thrown in at the deep end and have to either sink or swim. And nobody wants to sink. So we struggle and hope it works out. And when it does then there is the next thing to consider and do. And the next and so on and so forth.

I am far away from knowing how to solve this. I am just observing and recording.
But perhaps for the time being that is enough. 

Golly...

... it has been quite some time.

I will not go on and on about it. I shall be sweetness and light.
For which there are plenty of reasons.

Actually, no. No!
I am not going to spend one whole entry fibbing about how bloody happy I am ALL the BLOODY TIME.
Because I am not. Alright? Satisfied?

Of course I am happier, A LOT happier. Actually I am REALLY happy.
But I am also simply shattered, knackered, exhausted, debilitated, frazzled even.

My Doc says it was ok to be tired in times of transition. I love that. I also love that Doc seems to appreciate the nature of my reality right now: happiness aside, I am still only human and have not suddenly mutated into Zeus' illegitimate daughter with super magic goddess powers.
Wait - weren't all his children misbegotten - out of wedlock an' all?
Alright so I'd be one in a long line of bastard children whose mothers were kidnapped, tricked, rained upon (I still find that one kind of disturbing and a little disgusting, too), played for a fool by this dirty old man. And he was married to his sister, for crying out loud... but I'd also be one kick-ass immortal who would not be tired out by a few double-shifts and pondering too hard on - dare I say it - the past. I'd just shrug and get on with it. Heck, I'd re-write the past and eradicate all villains in my story. THAT's what I would do.

HOWEVER, it has turned out I have no magic super powers. (Shocking, right?!)
My powers are sub-par at present.
I am not as irritable as a bear just out of hibernation but I am sure as energetic.

So Doc says to take it easy. Be patient with thyself. Get some rest.
Well if I could I would not need her to tell me that. But such ist life.

What else is new?
I have settled more or less in my new flat. Things are still all over the place. But I cannot be bothered due to aforementioned problem of too little sleep.

I have still not overcome delayed rage. Still harbour sinister thoughts against a person of the past.
Wonder whether these will ever turn into deeds...

Have ordered rifle catalogues online.

Only joking.

Apart from the superficial and, I suppose, rather average tiny things of the every-day variety, I have noticed something which does not strike me as unsettling or even mildly surprising, which says to me that I should not worry. If anyone (anyone?) else wishes to do so, feel free and be more than welcome.

It is something I have been feeling all my life, more or less - and I am not unique in feeling thus. I am not making myself out to be. I am just stating a fact here.
Namely that a person can feel - while the turmoils of a certain part in their lives have been resolved and put to rest, while new beginnings have been made and things have turned out for the better - a kind of happiness, or relief but also finds that it is temporary, fleeting.To many, I have found, it seems to be that way. To equally as many this is a sign that something's wrong. Because: if they are not happy all the time, something MUST be wrong with them.

Who in their right mind is happy all the time, I ask.
Who honestly aspires to that?!
Naturally, if quizzed, a lot of us state: happiness. Whatever that may entail for the individual.
But that is the question right there isn't it. What's it mean to be happy, to have happiness in life? Is it fame, is it health, is it the car/the house/the yacht/the trophy wife, is it having enough money to live comfortably, is it love?
This despite the fact that we are told by those apparently in the know that failure, hardship, even sickness is the "stuff" that growth is made of and that in times of crises we must turn to ourselves to find answers, for all the riches and fame in the world will not solve your issues. (Though it helps I have been told.)

My happiness is a fickle thing. It never stays long and often leaves a sense of melancholy behind and then a kind of stressed-out feeling. I do believe this stems from my habit of making the proverbial second step before the first. (Oh, time was when I would attempt to take the 5th or even the 10th before I had even started to take steps at all.) I sort of live in the future in the sense that I worry about what may or may not happen. My life is a chores-list and after one chore is crossed off I move on to the next. I do not feel satisfaction about the things (little as they may seem to others) I have achieved, accomplished. I do not feel pride. I rarely feel joy about them. It's just something I've done. Can we move on now?
I do not celebrate the bigger events in life, so do not even talk to me about the small ones.
Should this really be down to my inability to stay "in the moment" as it were? Yup, 'cause what I do instead is leave the present in order to speculate frantically about my future. And that I really (really!) cannot know or control.

My little friend called D.R. (the one that frequently leads me down the path of anger towards a certain person of my past) is also in on it. He likes to shackle me to said past. And I let him. I invite questions of WHY oh why things happened and I create ever different scenarios of what I should have done. Only problem is, of course, I cannot change what has gone before. I may know it but again I cannot control it.

It's an old hat, I know... all this being able to live right here in the present moment and how difficult it can be for one that is so easily distracted, that is so misguided and insecure.
However, the older I get, the more I get it - which is not to say that I am any good at practising it.

My mind wanders on very sturdy legs every day all day. It has not learned to be still. It offers opinions, it spouts them like a never-ending well, bubbling, teaming with incessant "talk" of likes and dislikes. I am thus only the passenger. I get carried away, in the truest sense. Not least from myself.

So, I figure, happiness would be detachment, being still within oneself, shutting the hell up.

Not sure how to break this to my overly chatty mind, though. "Right, Past and Future are off bounds, you hear me?" Yeah, that's really gonna work so well! And it doesn't stop there, does it now. Any kind of judgement would be on the list of no-go's. What is to become of my little rants?! I have to ask myself here,  Am I really ready to part with my tantrums and my bouts of self-righteous anger, my regular moments of complacency? I do cherish feeling superior. (Sue me! Like all of us ever only criticise others in order to help them. Bollocks!)

You see, it is a big decision. And I shall take my time making it.
And I shall take my chances with feeling a little happy now and then and dog-tired in-between.
Clearly, it is not bad enough yet for me to do anything about it all.
I simply have a high pain threshold and my "too much effort" radar is super-sensitive at present.
Does that make me a bad person? No.
It simply shows once more how strong one's resistance to new things truly can be.

Ah, times of transition, eh...

Nothing Wrong With That

Today I have indulged in some retail therapy. I know I have been banging on about happiness of late. Well not so much here - because I was simply to exhausted and lazy (remember: TWO jobs) - but to colleagues and friends and pretty much anyone who listened.

However, something was missing in my life... yup - clothes.
Don't get me wrong I have not NOTHING to wear. I have a few things, but my warderobe has become so limited that I and it was in dire need.

I say this with all honesty: some had just given up and came apart at the seams. This they did on account of my at present rather shapely derrière. I have the matching thighs to go with it, too. It was sort of a 2 for 1 deal. And clothes can only take (read: strech) so much, I have been told.
Some of my trousers actually got eaten by the bike. Yes, THE bike.
I managed to get various trouser legs mangled in my bicycle chain.
That was fun as I was nearly thrown off while the fabric got churned and mangled and kept pulling me nearer and nearer to the handle bars and off the saddle.
What's that? OF COURSE I was wearing trouser clips! It just so happens that they're no bloody use when you have to bike it into work and the only thing you have left to wear are some ridiculously wide Marlene-Dietrich-type trousers. Really what I should have done was roll the damn legs up to my hip joint. But being the considerate ME that I am I chose not to and thus spared the drivers of cars and lorries and busses etc. a rather unsightly wake-up call early-ish in the morning.

So basically half my items do not fit, a quarter is unmendable and another quarter is ripped to pieces by either my heroic efforts to at least pretend to get some exercise or the fact that they rip on their own account. Just like that. It's like your clothes are giving you the finger.

But fear not - I have re-stocked the closet. All in moderation of course. I am all about moderation these days... (snort). Honestly though, I could not afford much anyway. Unlucky for me I still managed to go over budget.
But as this will have been the last shopping trip for quite some time, I believe I can get away with it this time.

Now I am even happier than before, would you believe, though a little poorer, too.
Yet - it was all very much necessary. I could not keep on wearing winter garments, Summer decided to wreak full havoc as of RIGHT NOW. Once more we kind of skipped Spring this year and opted for muggy conditions. Really no good to me. And especially tiresome without the right attire.

Anyway, rambling again - swiftly moving on - just wanted to say that I am not sure what it is about new clothes that make you feel nice - but they do and I like it.

Leaves the topic of how to reduce that above mentioned backside and the matching upper legs. And yes I am still clinging on to that last bit of hope that one day I will get up the energy (from whence I cannot say as yet) and go for a jog four times a week or something or do sit-ups and other such nonsense on a regular basis.
Because yes, personally I would love to return to a time when I and my joints and back were the same age. These days we sort of move at opposite ends of the spectrum. Not a good look.

So... what is one to do?

Thoughts?

Life In A Box

First boxes are packed.
One set of curtains is being washed.
Had a good old clear-out..
All in all it's going well.

Bit of a sore back, though.

I must say I feel proud of myself and generally pleased with my life right now.
Because it needs to be considered that this is the first proper flat I am moving into all by myself. So far I have had what feels like 50 flat shares. I lived with girls and boys, just boys, just girls.
And now it's going to be just me. YAY ME!

I have weaned myself from "we" and have now reached a mostly healthy "me".

Ever noticed how one area of your life can be a metaphor for another?
My housing situation, my looming move, seem to mirror my personal life, i.e. I am clearing out and starting afresh. I am moving away from the past, from what has been. Sure enough I will be taking parts with me but mostly I will move on. That is the plan.

I have just been for a little walk and I have noticed - not for the first time, mind you - that ever since I've found that cosy little new place I have been saying goodbye to my neighbourhood. I cherish my morning walks to work, trying to memorise the houses, the trees, the shops, the quirks of this part of town. I trace and re-trace the routes, places and spaces that are soaked with memories of days gone by. That have silently witnessed brief moments of happiness, wonder and surprise, that have seen me in despair, without hope, that have felt my heart ache and that caught the tears. There are tiny pieces of me left here and there. Nothing big, nothing world-stopping, nothing extraordinary. Just a few years of my life, a handful of memories, the good, the bad, the ugly... that is how it is. And always.

It is good that I am moving on. It is time.

And it is Spring. I have been told that is when life starts over, full of hope, full of faith.

Moving On

Will be signing lease contract for new flat soon.
"Being over the moon" does not even begin to cover it.

Ich war auf dem Nachhauseweg nach einem Termin und ging die mir wohl bekannten Straßen im Westend Richtung Opernplatz. Man kommt natürlich unweigerlich an den Hochhäusern vorbei. Und natürlich haben sie irgendetwas an sich, das einen verweilen läßt. Es ist ihre Größe. Es sind die Lichter, die einem suggerieren, da drin wird nie geschlafen; einer ist immer wach, um irgend etwas zu tun. Und das muss ja dann bedeuten, dass es was Mordwichtiges ist, das "da drinnen" gemacht wird. Gut, das ist sicherlich Ansichtssache.
Aber ich spreche aus Erfahrung, wenn ich sage, dass man in manchen Situationen vom angeblich so Wichtigen, das (ebenso angeblich) noch unbedingt erledigt werden muss, fast verschlungen wird, weil man sich nicht wehrt, weil man manchmal sogar freiwillig mitmacht bei der eigenen Versklavung und entscheidend daran Anteil hat, dass die Lichter nie ausgehen.

Ich stand also vor diesen Hochhäusern und legte meinen Kopf in den Nacken, um mir ihre Größe bewusst zu machen. Mir wurde nicht schwindlig, ich war auch nicht berührt von Ehrfurcht oder Staunen, ob dieser menschlichen Leistung. Nichts von dem spürte ich.
Ich fühlte nämlich gar nichts. Keine Wehmut. Keine Bitterkeit. Keinen Ärger über die verschenkten Jahre.

Ich war nur erstaunt, dass ich jemals in diese "Welt" eingetaucht war. Dass ich wider besseren Wissens gehandelt hatte.
Zugegeben, hinterher ist einem ja immer alles glasklar und man fragt sich gerne mal, warum man das mitgemacht hat, oder mit sich hat machen lassen.
Im tiefsten Innern seines eigenen Herzens weiß man aber, dass niemand sonst seine Finger im Spiel hatte als man selbst.
Ich habe also zu dieser Situation beigetragen, an ihr gestrickt wie an einem Weihnachtsschal.
Ich habe sie herbeigeführt, ermöglicht und ausgehalten.

Und ich fragte mich, ob ich in Zukunft anders handeln und früher die Notbremse ziehen, den Absprung wagen würde/werde.

Das kann ich nicht sagen, das wären nur Spekulationen.
Ich kenne mich, glaube ich, ganz gut. Und daher ist da ein wenig Sorge - aber auch Hoffnung.

Man geht schließlich nicht umsonst durch die Täler, oder?

ODER?!?!

Ooooh

It is the first weekend in December.  

It's the weekend of the Second Advent. 

 It's three more weeks to go to CHRISTMAS. 

Whhheeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

I personally will be indulging in mulled wine, chocolates and maroni and I believe a little bit of sparkling wine to celebrate the fact that I am back to work on Monday. 

Celebrate? 

Yes.

 Yes, indeed! 

This IS something to celebrate. 

I am looking forward to this new part of my life. 

I feel like I am starting afresh, like I'm being given a second chance at trying the whole "actually enjoying the job you do" thing. 

And whilst I am not skipping and jumping down the streets, hugging strangers, believe me when I say I am happy, very happy indeed. Quietly, though. 

Ok, every now and then I make this excited little squeak.  

I believe no Christmas present this year can top my finding a job and getting my life a little bit back to normal. 

Of course, there's still plenty other things to be improved. Isn't it always the way...?! 

Well, there's always next year.

Coming Through

I got a call this morning.

At precisely 9.02. And it was good news, indeed.  Such news that mean change. Good change.

Since then I have talked to friends who have reminded me how far I have come in the past months and how this makes for a wonderful ending of the old year.

Only now I begin to think back what has gone before, what evidently needed to happen to allow for this.

It sounds banal. People often say that things happen for a reason, that all will work out in the end. While being in the middle of it one seldom believes such utterings and disregards them as just that: “what people say”, when nothing else can be done, when all (else) has failed.

But in retrospect it makes sense, as everything tends to do with hindsight. They don’t say hindsight was 20:20 for nothing.

Once you have a result, the way you got there seems blatantly obvious. And you even argue that you could not have done it without the hardship. But growth apparently is only ever achieved within the vicinity of shit. And shit happens all the time, so no worries about shortages there. It’s a bit like with plants, I guess. Without manure, no harvest.

That certainly was true for this year. Manure galore. In a steady stream.

However, the end justifies the means.

Along the way, things shifted, the world has seemingly changed. Or have I?

I believe it’s a bit of both. 

Define Happy Medium Some More

I am not as agitated anymore - it's a day later I've had time to reflect once more. And perhaps I am slow but still here is what I came up with:

It is of course not simply "the others". That would be just another excuse.
A large part of the aforementioned assumptions and expectations is actually grounded within me, too. I doubt myself, I expect more of myself because one part of me feels I should do more with my life. But more what?!?!

Today I had a conversation during the course of which I learned about the parcels we carry around with us - some since generations. Parcels? Read other people's expectations and aspirations. So we carry them despite the fact that they are not even our own. They are essentially baggage slowing us down.
Said parcels are handed down to us by family members and I am sure there are parcels from friends and bosses, too.
Be that as it may, the important thing to remember is that such parcels, such nicely wrapped expectations and hopes, and demands are not our own.
They are hand-me-downs and in the true sense wear-me-downs.
And we keep wondering why the hell we "can't get no satisfaction".
We are not fulfilling our own needs, our own destinies but some other person's instead.
That is like a paint-by-numbers-kit for disappointment, frustration and heartache.

It's strange how this never occured to me, how I never consciously thought about it like that. Or if I have, then I managed to shove into a very tiny box in the very back of my head. See, another parcel...
Now it seems soo obvious. Of course, once more it remains to be seen how I handle this knowledge. Wouldn't it be nice if I could take a closer look at my parcels, maybe even OPEN it and check the INSIDE?

I mean, we're coming up to Christmas, after all...

Define Happy Medium (cntd.)

Yeah, why DID I feel something’s wrong with ‘small and slow’?

Well, I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it.

Having to justify myself in front of others for that decision

The assumption that my qualifications should put me up for “much more”

The assumption I could do/be so “much more”

The expectation that my ambition is wired that way, that in fact I AM

The dismissal of my fears as irrational, silly and unnecessary

Kinda makes me want to say: Have you spent 12 months in my shoes? No? Then shut the hell up!

Being subjected to all of the above at least some of the time is not helpful in finding my own balance. Neither is listening to it, letting it get to me, of course. But show me the person who brushes such remarks off and goes about their business, content and safe in the knowledge that they are happy. I’ll gladly take lessons from them.

Deep inside I do know that it is MY happiness that I should be concerned about not what others may think of me. Alas, I am not always serenely oblivious to what those around me say or do or think. I keep stumbling over the opinions of others and keep struggling to focus on myself. I keep struggling with doubts.

I am sitting in this car – I have used this metaphor before and at that time I asked whether I was actually in the driver’s seat. Well, what do you know, now I am. Brownie point for me. However, someone pointed out to me only recently that I seem to be scared to drive. I have my foot on the gas and I slowly and carefully press down only to take it off again the next minute. The minute in fact when I actually start moving.

Let me tell you that makes for some jerky driving.

Translated it means that I am indecisive, unable to articulate what I want, because I in fact do not know. Being the control freak and perfectionist that I am I cannot simply take the wheel and drive (not speed, mind!) and see what happens. For that I am far too scared, too. And insecure perhaps. And too much the child of anxious parents.

But coming back to assumptions about potential.

Why is it seemingly unacceptable to be less ambitious than the next person? Why do I have to be pushier, more driven, more passionate? Why do I have to “do better”?

To whose standards, to whose definitions of success and failure do I have to live up to? Well, I know the answer – I am not that dense! We ALL know the answer to that. Of course we do!

Yet, do we live it? Well, I certainly don’t.

I believe once more it all essentially comes back to awareness and being in touch with yourself, and conscious experience. This coming from one who is so obviously lost in her own internal dialogue, is rich I know.

But these musings are simply what I have experienced so far while still not having successfully practised (let alone mastered) detachment. I struggle with such concepts/practises even though I believe them to be universally and profoundly true. Struggling in the sense of having a hard time of actively and consciously incorporating them in my life, which sounds phoney. Actually it should read – having a hard time LIVING it.

I have read about silence, quietening the internal dialogue, non-judgement, the need to get in touch with one’s innermost essence, quiet acknowledgement and the coexistence of opposites . . .

It all strikes a chord within me.

But I am the one seemlingy standing outside a glass window wondering why I am so removed from understanding, not seeing the obvious once more (yup, story of my life): if you want to get inside then you’d best use the door next to the window you’re standing in front of, right?

It seems such a logical thing, such a minor thing to do. It is so blatantly obvious.

And yet I am waiting. Waiting for what?!

Define Happy Medium

Been thinking. So here goes.

It is always difficult to judge how honest you can be in an interview. 

I suppose you have to balance "brutal honesty" - or should that be refreshing - with the white lies, with lying by omission. 

I had to omit a lot lately because I did not want to be perceived as an unbalanced nutcase who cannot handle stress and is constantly on the verge of another meltdown/breakdown. (I am currently reconsidering that. If you accept these facts of your life, and proactively let others know about them, is that not a good thing? Would you be perceived as being weak for that? If so, then move on. If not, well then that is a step in the right direction, the direction you would want to go, right?) Once you're in that box it's difficult to get out. (I wonder whether I put myself in that box from fear of not being strong enough, of not being good enough, of having to go out there and live my life essentially? Hm…)

While trying to convince others that I am the old me I also had to try and convince myself of the same thing - or rather of the fact that I was in a way a new improved version of the old me.

I say in a way because I believe that the last 12 months I have seen a lot, pondered a lot, had to ask myself a lot of questions. Now, I don't claim wisdom and complete enlightenment - but a few insights I have gained. How or if I will be able to incorporate this knowledge into my daily life, my actions, I am not sure yet. Perhaps I am doing it already? Perhaps I am carrying on as before? Seeing that my old friend called crippling self-doubt is still around and hangs out regularly makes me believe the latter. Which in itself is more frustrating than I can say. 

Thus, I am left with a bit of a dilemma – a) not quite knowing how resistant I am to my inclination to take on more than necessary, take everything personal, not be able to set healthy boundaries for myself. Does that sound like I should be seeing someone for that? Believe me, I am. However, this unhealthy disposition I believe I share with a lot of other people. Perhaps we are not necessarily the doers in this world, the movers and shakers as it were. Perhaps we like to stay in the background because that is our comfort zone. Perhaps we care a little too much and give a little too much, forgetting to keep something back for ourselves. We thrive on bringing happiness and joy into other people’s lives, yet we easily neglect our own needs.

And finally b) – not letting those issues hold me back in my search and my attempts to find a job.

A job. Any job?

Well, after over 12 months of being out of the game and several personal crises later I believe I have to concentrate first of all on getting back on the horse. Some high-pressure job should not be what I am looking for – I know that. And it is actually not what I want anyway – never wanted.

I am starting small and slow. That is the way forward. Otherwise I could just shoot myself right now and be done with it, not having learned anything and all.

I don’t want to take on too much because I feel obliged to do so. That old hat of ‘the more I do the more I’ll be appreciated and feel satisfaction in return’. Yeah right, when you look for outside approval you should know that is the perfect set up for a lot of pain and trouble. Just saying.

Coming back to taking things on: I can honestly say that right now I don’t even know I want to take on “much”. Maybe a “little” is fine, too.

So why do I feel something’s wrong with ‘small and slow’? 

3 Things Today

I had a most enlightening conversation.

I saw a grandfather warm the tiny hands of his grandson.

I found a perfectly shaped, beautifully coloured leaf that looked a little like it would have made a beautiful parasol for someone tiny.