Tiny little cars.

I love Smart cars, little Volkswagen Beetles and the sweet little Minis. Yes, I like fuel efficiency and environmental economy… but, the main thing is, I love cities with little cobblestone lanes and streets. And that means big cars are just a nuisance because they don’t share well; they certainly don’t share those sorts of charming little roads with bicycles or pedestrians well. Also, you could park a Smart pretty easily on a crowded road in a country with more relaxed road rules.

I’m grateful for cute little cars!

I’m grateful for my path.

I love being at this point in life.

It’s when you have enough strength to bear your sensitivity, to wear your personality, to choose your feelings and responses, to walk away from situations that do not suit you, to say “no”, to say “yes”, to say “if you don’t like me, you can leave”.

It’s when you have enough exposure to visit a new city and walk confidently, to start a new job and walk tall.

It’s when you feel so peaceable and whole, you no longer have the craving to shop and buy new things to fill a hole, or to escape into a television series.

It’s when you are so good at enjoying your own company that you can love your friends and family much better because you no longer need them to tell you who you are and what you’re worth.

It’s when you are experienced enough to make a decision that is good for YOU without needing everyone else to approve it, or feeling like you must justify it.

It’s when you are solid enough to look disapproval, judgement and rejection in the face and hold on to everything, giving away none of your sense of self-worth.

It’s when you are secure and stable enough to see someone clearly and love them away.

It does not make you invincible. It does not stop the tears. It does not give you any more control over what happens to you in life. But it gives you a moment of reprieve; a moment of mercy, kindness, grace.

This was earned. That’s why it’s precious. And I’m grateful I was given this journey, this path, and no other.

Fireworks.

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I know, I know. They’re a waste of (often taxpayer) money, very expensive, pollutive, noisy, indulgent, wasteful, etc.

But the hopeless romantic in me just loves a good occasional firework display, especially when it’s been creatively choreographed, they’re invented new fire bursts, and it’s combined with other bright fiery showy elements. And rivers. Yes, I just realised that most of the fireworks displays I’ve liked best have been on rivers…. except in cities where there was no real river to speak of.

The most memorable fireworks display I’ve ever seen was one in the late 90s, in Melbourne on the banks of the Yarra River, during a festival called Moomba. It was beautifully choreographed, poetic, quirky, smart, atmospheric, even moody and mysterious with a hint of the Cirque du Soleil at times.

I’m sheepishly grateful for fireworks.

Spiders!

resident spider

 

It seems I have a resident spider. This little guy/gal is perched on my bathroom mirror, and we startled each other this morning, but then I just left it alone and we’ve been regarding each other suspiciously since, each time I need to wash my hands. Actually, I have a few resident spiders– just a few tiny little ones in various dark corners of my room. I leave them alone and barely see them. They quietly go about their tiny spidery business.

I actually don’t mind spiders. And I like house lizards. Basically, I like pretty much most creatures that are “on my side”, so to speak. When summer started, I was getting bitten by mosquitoes each night until, one day, I noticed that I wasn’t. When I next dusted and swept, I noticed a few tiny panicked and scurrying forms– the spiders had moved in. Now I just regularly brush up the desiccated corpses of mosquitoes and houseflies from the dark corners and thank the little critters. :)

I’m grateful for spiders!

A cool, sunny summer.

Everyone’s been warning me that where I currently live, summer can be scorchingly hot.

So far, though, none of my fears have materialised (I have neither air-conditioning, nor an electric fan, decent or otherwise). It’s been beautifully cool (sometimes even a little chillier in the mornings that I’d expected of summer), but sunny, or, at least, patchy. Rain is warmish summer rain, not the kind you can freeze to death in, or even catch cold. I live in what must have previously been a cloister for Catholic nuns, with solid walls and cold brick floor, so my Plan B of desperation was that I would bring my pillow and duvet downstairs and sleep on the stairs, ala the littlest Von Trapp girl from The Sound of Music. I have not yet had to resort to this.

I’m grateful for mild summer weather! :)

 

I’m grateful for the in-betweens.

journette:

I felt that this post was particularly relevant for this point in time, when many school-leavers will be entering college/university and deciding what to do with their lives. It’s an in-between all over the world (except Anglo-system nations). Post-SATs, post-bac, pre-college… I wish I had had these speeches/articles to inspire me when I was younger, but I matriculated in a time before the internet became popular. So, here they are:

Originally posted on Life's little mercies:

forkinroad

The in-betweens are times to take stock and decide what we stand for, and what we really want. Maya Angelou once said: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” In-betweens normally happen at the point of “knowing better”. That’s when things can get a bit thorny. That’s normally when you realise you’re standing at the edge of something potentially life-changing, but it requires… well, changing your life. Sometimes giving up things that are no longer working for us; sometimes admitting a huge, I got it wrong before, and I’m sorry. How hard is that, right?! We know at that point that things can go wonderfully right or disastrously wrong, and so would require a huge leap of faith.

Personally, I am paradoxically risk-averse and adventure-yearning. So these forks in the road are very often slightly agonising. At least.

That’s where…

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