Every day holds something else if I push myself. I am trying.
Trying so hard. And I feel proud of myself a lot in that because these things don’t come naturally to me in the way they might to others.
It’s hard to lose the things that make me, Me.
And I don’t want to because all those things put together make me find magic in everything. But I am also often reminded in moments, of the loneliness I can feel in that. Will I ever not feel that? It’s so very hard.
My morning began with me telling a young girl that she filled my heart with joy. I walked behind as she patiently took her time helping an old boy down the stairs at Bank tube station. It was the sweetest thing to observe. Everyone was rushing round them and I was content in walking slowly behind watching this interaction. At first I wondered if it was her grandad. There was a huge amount of care there. Then I realised he was a stranger. Perhaps there were thoughts of her own grandad. She looked round and we smiled at each other. When they reached the bottom of the stairs she walked slowly along with him and asked where he was going. He was off to see his girlfriend. She escorted him to his platform and said goodbye.
She smiled so much when I said to her. She knew she had been good but it’s always nice for someone to notice it too.
She touched his life but also mine. I felt my heart sing at her kindness and care.
With so much swirling around right now I needed a moment like that.
Onward to the day I had planned that meant I could not be with those I cared about. But I also needed a break. And next week too. I have reached a limit and need to find some joy and happiness of my own. It can all be so very draining and it’s those moments when I need to feel love myself. I am only a human too and there is such a pressure to be strength, sunshine and love, which I have by the bucket load but is not completely limitless. Sometimes my blog feels like the only place I’m really able to really share that.
So to the Arts place I went, coming up the Angel escalators with my familiar thought whenever I’m here that it is the longest escalator in London. I don’t know if that is true but it always will be for me. Whatever anyone else ever says.
What do you do when you are disconnecting from a group you love, thinking about not fitting and struggling to make sense of a million different puzzle pieces.
You go and feel uncomfortable in a room with a big group of random strangers in an arty farty place where they don’t have pg tips (camomile, green tea, earl grey) and do some art workshops. I found myself chuckling underneath in my discomfort of what was not feeling very “real”.
I’m a dreamer but that can clash also with my “keep it real” “down to Earth” roots.
But discomfort is where I am putting myself at the moment. Because there are definite fits if I can see beyond the barriers of misfit.
As I looked round the room there seemed such a familiarity in the way they all conversed with each other. A way I don’t know how to do. I just don’t talk that way.
It’s so strange. I went to a pie shop the other day. My friend talked as though that was my fit. Familiar totally. It’s how I grew up. I know it, recognise it, understand it, feel comfortable in it but I don’t quite fit in that neither. In fact the truth be known I don’t especially love pie and mash that much. I mean it’s my girls favourite but I’d probably prefer Chicken Tikka and some naan bread. So where exactly do I fit other than in my own world where I’m just me and I don’t have to adjust.
But in true pushing myself style I stayed just as me. I wasn’t exactly bonding but I’m always friendly and interested so that always sees me so far. I was trying but as I often see the same types naturally come together and bond and I ate the cakes.
But then it started. With a little dancing where everyone looked completely uncomfortable and I was totally in my element. Twirling and feeling that bassline like I chose the track myself. Now you’re talking on a Saturday morning. I made myself a sunset name badge of reds oranges and yellows and like party games when the music stopped find a person to talk to. The badge drew those punters in. I mean it was something to behold even though I forgot to write my name on it. Each time a person found me they said I picked you because you looked happy dancing and I liked your badge.
What’s your name???? I’m writing a lot I know. Bear with me. These are my puzzle pieces and in some way they fit together and writing helps me to make sense of them.
So after a quick cuppa, (a very sweet lady found me a normal teabag 😊) it was on to painting. If mindfulness is an art then I’m Picasso because I went through the mindful scenario several times in one day… Let ya into a secret. Didn’t feel mindful once despite the wonderful words of encouragement from each tutor. I had one eye open scanning all the puppets in the corner thinking, I’ve always wanted to be a ventriloquist. “Bottle of gear”
and then having been less than mindful I now had to paint the tree I had imagined myself to be in that moment. But I didn’t want to be a tree. I wanted to be a raging sea with waves crashing against my sunset. So that’s what I did. They asked if I was rebellious. Not at all I said. I just quietly like doing my own thing. It’s completely different. And I felt happy in that. It made more sense to me and I loved what I painted. It was no masterpiece but it was exactly how I’m feeling.
And so to lunch. Where to sit, who with.. can I walk home through the woods. But I made some efforts. I can make a certain amount of small talk even if I slightly drift off.
But the afternoon was where it was at for me. Writing and performing. I proper loved it. What I wrote was exactly what my heart feels right now but could only be shared with strangers. And then I made them laugh with my other offerings. I’m two sides of the same coin and showing them both in all their colour felt pretty wonderful actually.
With make your own blue peter type presents for the person next to you I came home with a goody bag of heart shaped glasses with a fairy on, just after it had ended with holding hands and dancing. Or as my family would probably describe it, lots of happy clappy types with nothing better to do. But I liked it. I felt like I was 8 years old at an all day party. I came away with big little girl smiles which were caught randomly in the street by Miss Geist and her boyfriend. She said I looked like sunshine walking down the street. I felt like sunshine.
So what did I learn in any of that. I have no clue. I had fun, I did what I wanted, I cared less because I was only there for 1 day so was never going to see anyone again. I made it what I wanted it to be.
I gave myself what I needed. And I felt like I deserved that. A little more of that might be nice.
Sometimes life is such a plan whereas I don’t have one. In the moment and as I’m feeling it is what would be lovely. I realise you have to make plans well in advance to end up not alone. I wish life could be more spontaneous. That you could just say that morning, that night, that moment..”want to do something”. It doesn’t work that way so home I came feeling happy for the nice time and ready for the alone bit which I can fill with all sorts but of course in my dreams would be nice to fill with love.
But in the meantime a Margarita pizza and a glass of wine for 1… x