I have found it hard to blog lately. My health has taken a bit of a downward turn and it is becoming increasingly difficult to get through the weeks. Writing has taken a bit of a back seat. I have felt a kind of emptiness as a result. This has left me realising that I need to write. I am stressed without the discipline of it. It is my lifeblood.
So I have hatched a plan. I am going to rise above it by focusing on the simple things in life that bring me pleasure. I am going to focus and focus until the fever breaks.
The simple things are the important things, aren’t they? They fill our days much more than those complex things we think it’s important to strive for. They are the sum of us rather than extras lurking in the background.
Some days I look out my window and I see things that make me smile. And I thank the powers that be for giving me the ability to look at life as if it a movie with stories all around.
Today it is a beautiful winter’s day. The air is crisp but clear. The sky is a film set.
The first thing I see when I look out my window is a little girl walking a puppy. The puppy is the cutest thing you ever saw. He is pure white and he bounces as he walks. His ears don’t stand up yet, they are all flopped over. People stop and talk to the little girl, smile at her puppy. She stops near my house and I hear her say: I have a brand new puppy. She is as proud as punch.
My gaze shifts to the house across the road. An enormous Victorian mansion that wouldn’t be out of place in the heart of London. Three mourning doves sit on the railing of the upstairs balcony. Chests puffed out like Victorian gentlemen who have just been supping on French cheeses and very good wine. They are a picture of contentment. Their soft hoo hoos are like feathers on glass.
The camellia flowers have fallen onto the grass. They bunch beneath the bushes like floral tributes to the tree gods. I remember the pillbox hat my grandmother used to wear to church in the 1960s decorated with white linen flowers, tightly formed. It is funny how things you see in the present day reference things you saw in days past.
The simple things. The best things. Filling up our thoughts. The minutiae of our days. The measure of our days.
Life moves and shifts from battleground to serene meadow, back and forth until our heads are spinning.
Take refuge where you can in the falling flowers.
And celebrate the simple things.