Interlinked hearts

 I was a gwarky teenager - long, nondescript hair, braces on my bunny teeth, and lacking confidence to enjoy being tall and thin. One Saturday morning I went with a friend who had considerably more outwardly confidence, self worth and make up,  to a local institutional home for adults with delayed development.  It was their annual fete, with the usual tea and scones, tombola stall, white elephant stall, and some oddly shaped knitted garments. We wandered around, spun the wheel of fortune, bought some second hand books and drank the tea.  I was feeling rather overshadowed by my confident friend, and did my usual shrinking act.  

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.  Not from behind - he boldly walked up to me and looking me in the eye,tapped my shoulder. I don't know how old he was - a young adult probably, definitely shorter than me, and had a huge open smile that a lot of the residents wore, especially the ones like him with Down Syndrome.

In his hand was clenched a tombola type prize of an interlaced hearts necklace.  He gave it to me, and asked me to put it on.  "You're beautiful" he said.  And then he turned and left.

I wonder if he had any idea of the enormity of the gift he had given me.

This gift accompanied me through some difficult teenage years.  It made me stand a little straighter, smile a lot more, and helped me begin to claim my own space in the world.  Kindness can change history, because  kindness recognises the humanity and connectivity we all share.  

 

 

 

 

This little old fashioned frame and saying hangs in my bedroom as a reminder.  It belonged to my Great Aunt many moons ago.
 

Heartbeat

 I found myself squelching through a Bad Mood last week.  The snappy, irritable type that makes me replace my usual sunny disposition with a cynical and cavalier dismissal of everything as  too much to deal with.  Sort of Tigger and Eeyore rolled into one.  I can't be much fun to live with when I am like this.  It's an annual thing, and predictable, so I can brace myself and my loved ones and ask for patience and forgiveness.

It was my birthday.  I find the week leading up to my birthday one of the most stressful of the year.  I am an oddball, I know, but that's the truth. I sometimes sit and puzzle the whys and prevention techniques, but this year - pandemic round 2- I just gave into it and became the family crocodile.  It is not about getting older (I don't think) - I am pragmatic about what can be controlled and what can't.  And it is not about not being celebrated - my husband and children are kind, thoughtful and lavish in their celebrations.  Nope - it is about me, and where I place myself in the world. Am I alone here?  Am I the only person who finds it difficult to celebrate my own life from the inside? 

This birthday was on a Sunday, and it was splendid.  We packed a picnic and headed to Kirstenbosch botanical gardens and lazed under a tree in the safety of fresh air and no one sitting nearby.  We gazed over Cape Town, ate sumptuously, and discussed the philosophy of being.  I was warmed by the afternoon sun, and the company of people I love.  

It got me to thinking that maybe next year I can end April in a chipper mood, and not worry so much about my birthday.  Perhaps it will be possible to break what may just be a habit of dread.  It got me thinking that, although my life is a little one, I have achieved greatness by being surrounded by wonderful beings and loving them deeply. Perhaps that is all there is to it:  Having a heartbeat and listening to myself being alive.

I will check in with you next year and let you know......