Sitting at the beach

No one questions why someone is sitting,

Empty handed,

By themselves,

At the sea.

We know.

At the sea,

We understand

this act of

Being

with one’s thoughts.

But.

Bizarrely.

Doing that in a cafe in London makes

people will think you’re a weirdo.

Brighton Beach, 26.5.19

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Comfort

Thick,

fluffy,

white bread,

sliced by your soft old hands.

Toasted,

golden brown,

reminding me of crunchy autumn leaves.

Wearing a heavy coat of yellow butter like a duvet,

giving comfort,

and warmth,

and homeliness.

A satisfying crunch and warm butter flooding my mouth,

awakening my taste buds,

and stirring my heart

with warmth that transcends temperature…

This evening,

the weather is mild,

but my heart is cool.

And for the first time in near two decades,

I crave the comfort of your toast…

And you.

Image: myrecipes.com

Mindful leaves

A short note musing on my walk to work a few weeks ago…go with it.

Walking,

hurriedly,

texting,

music listening,

walking,

work-thinking,

absentmindedly

putting my hands in my pocket and

Realising:

I wasn’t aware of what

coat I was wearing.

Sobered.

Needing to ground myself

I STOP.

Putting aside thoughts of what others

think of this woman stopping mid pavement,

just standing…

looking at a plant.

I look at the leaves,

appreciate the green,

the light on its leaves,

frayed browning edges

and vibrant green,

I still my thoughts

and body

and just LOOK

For a minute.

I pick a small leaf and walk on

Slowlyyyy.

Looking at the leaf,

feeling its grooves,

Grounding myself by focussing.

Feeling more steady.

More present.

More Me.

Leaf on my desk,

I glance at my talisman through the day…

My reminder to breathe.

And be.

Secret Daffodil Garden

My heart stilled and swelled

upon seeing blossom trees

and daffodils

in this secret garden.

Cherishing a few snatched

minutes of stillness,

in and with myself,

I picked a bent daffodil;

a keepsake of this Gift to me.

My face turned upwards,

to the bright,

clear,

white

sky

hanging over me like a banner.

My eyes closed;

My heart full

with

gratitude,

love,

and

the pain of longing for you Grandad,

who loved daffodils so.

My spirit open,

with hope of what will be painted

on the blank sky that is

the open canvas of my life

for this year ahead,

As my ears fill with the swell of birdsong.

Image: DLB 6.4.19

Plastic lightbulbs and birthday cake

When breath becomes air

and air becomes still

When chest is frozen in breath’s

last exhale

When heart and lungs take their final bow

And exhale your Life

Then…

Like Cinderella’s carriage at midnight

the magic of life runs out

Life becomes a grey-painted wall

Stars which mapped the secrets of the constellations become plastic lightbulbs

and the Sun which lit the roads which led us to

an opened door,

a deep smile and

hugs smelling of

brylcreem and palmolive,

four layer birthday cake

and menus written on scrap envelopes,

twinkling, patient blue eyes and powdery-soft strong hands.

That sun now a broken car boot sale lamp,

faulty switch and bulb too weak to shine any light.

Did you know you were the sun and stars?

Did you know you were our inspiration, …my very air?

Did you know know KNOW

how much I loved you?

Please say yes.

Please

say

something.

Please…

stop being gone.

Simon Von Booys

The regret trinity

I generally think regret gets a bad name.

I regret a lot in life: not persevering with learning a language or instrument; not trying harder in school; saying I Love You back when I didn’t mean it (!!); having cheese and crackers tonight after a day of healthy eating; repeatedly going to bed too late, and lots more!

I think the idea that is oh so popular on inspirational Pinterest posters (ugh), that regrets are bad and we should have none just misses the whole point and deep value of regrets! They can be the best motivator and prod us to grow into the people we aspire to be; to be better friends and lovers etc, to improve at work, to save money and take better care of our health etcccc.

Regret isn’t shame.

Shame labels us and makes us stuck.

Regret labels behaviour and moves us forward (well, for me it usually takes a few regrets to get the lesson but hey, it counts!).

Anyway, I was mulling on this recently and this short poem came to mind…

Regret:

The gap between

What you do

Who you are,

And what you want to do

And who you want to be.

Shame:

The gulf between

What you do,

Who you are,

And what other people want you to do

And who others want you to be.

Freedom

Neither wallowing in regret,

Nor ignoring its painful lessons,

Rather striving to do and be

What and who you want to be.

And not letting others’ (imagined?) views hinder your quest.

NLB 3.1.19

Jerking away from oneself?

 

Photo: NLB 2018

As I lay in the Ghana sun –

book in hand,

warmth in bones and heart –

I freeze as I feel something

crawling down my leg.

I jerk firmly

to reclaim my body from this crawling invader

who may mean me harm.

Only to realise in that moment:

it was just a bead of sweat.

How often,

I wonder,

does what comes out of us

make us jerk away

-in fear?

-in surprise?

-in disgust?