I’d say it’s what separates us, not from the beasts, but the bestial. Creating the future, renewing a learned past - these are reasons to strive. Writing for and with love, taking and framing an image, stretching new melodic skins onto old skeletons of song… it’s how we manage to fly. It’s how we stay you and me, not us and them.
Unlike Osk, who seemed to establish his own tactical task force wherever we lived, scooping up neighbourhood feline troublemakers as sidekicks (including the memorable ginger behemoth Watson, with whom he used to scope the street from the safety of the shed roof), Jelly has the intelligence gathering skills of a sponge cake.
Anyway, somewhere in between my 'and then you should've done this' and 'why didn't you say x and y, rather than z', and 'for the love of monkeys and the general public's eyesight, you didn't honestly wear that heinous shirt did you', something he was saying about the dating extravaganza we were picking to pieces finally penetrated my cloud of self-congratulatory cumulo-waffle.
"Most people don't talk about how dates are progressing as a tender process, do they?" he asked.
"What?"
"She said I was 'part way through the tender process' and that she was judging me on my submission. I'd like to think there was irony involved, and I think at the time I may have given an admittedly weak "haha, yesssss, quite". Looking back, I'd have to conclude, computer says no on the presence of Fabulon or other aids to achieving crisply pressed linen."
No more being kind, which I try to make my default state. I’m going loud and proud GOF. No longer shall I keep my rants against cyclists with headphones in and a paucity of hand signals - not the Man Who Vaguely Resembles David Tennant, may I add, who has excellent cycling etiquette - behind my rolled up car windows. Those windows are going down, sister, and the megaphone is coming out.
““Change in all things is sweet””
I am going through some significant life changes at the moment, and as a result feel as though I am chasing my own tail half the time. You know what I mean - that headlong half-panicked, half-excited sensation combined with an 'oh hell, I have so much to do and no time in which to do it' tic in the back of your brain.
Is it weird to be grateful for that squirmy 'what the hell am I doing?' sensation in my stomach?
As I sit here in the Dread Pirate's seaward looking lair - which unfortunately is sans said Dread, who is busy buccaneering - I can't help but think of David Bowie's 'Changes'. I am trying to turn and face the strange, but at moments... well, I feel like facing the familiar and the known, even with the realisation that they are not what I want or need moving forward.
I think everyone experiences this at some stage when facing the unknown. Whether you are in a new job, new personal circumstances, a new town even - it's sometimes tempting to want to turn back the clock if only so that the uncertainties are removed.
But then - if you remove the uncertain, and stick with the safe, aren't you basically saying 'I know I wasn't happy with my life before, but it was the way things were, so I will just keep on going'?
This is a time for a leap of faith. Whether it is faith in your own abilities, faith in another person - it doesn't matter. What does matter is being brave enough to say OK, it may not work out - but if I don't try, I will never know.
Turn to face the strange. Be grateful for the unknown and the possibly precarious. You never know - time may have a treat in store for you.
Just this once.
““I think that the older I get, the more I realise that the ultimate luxury is time””
Those who know me well are very much aware of my love of luxury. After all, why turn right when you can turn left? But some make the mistake of thinking that luxury is necessarily about material things, when sometimes the truly decadent and divine things in life are intangible or indefinable.
Take my adoration of the shoe for example. Yes, I adore wearing expensive high heels because let's face it, Louboutins can make an Oompa Loompa's legs look like Miranda Kerr's; but it isn't about them being costly which makes them precious to me. It's simply because they are beautiful. There are a hell of a lot of pricey shoes out there which I wouldn't touch with a bargepole, because they are really, really ugly. There are some very inexpensive shoes which are similarly totally gorgeous and thus get a spot on the Shoe Racks of Sublimity.
But on a higher level (if possible) than staring worshipfully at wondrous footwear, there are very different luxuries that can't be found in a shop. And it's these that I am most grateful for.
Having the time to read a good book. To watch a trashy TV show. Making a really delicious meal, even if it's only for myself. Laughing at truly stupid things with close friends who get the joke without explanation. Working for myself. Feeling healthy. Being thoroughly spoiled by someone simply because they want to make you feel great. Having people who care deeply about me, even if some of them are a long way away physically.
How are these things not luxurious? Because there are millions and millions of people on the planet who cannot count them as things they get to enjoy. Which makes them both rare and a privilege which I do not discount.
I am filled with gratitude for the luxuries I have in my life; not a life in the sun in the way most people would think of it - but definitely one that is less cloudy than most.
That's not to say that a private jet would go unappreciated... or naturally...
More shoes!
