I have had earache for 4 days and something that keeps threatening to be flu but that isn’t man enough to make good on it’s threats, for a week. It’s dark when I wake up in a morning and it’s dark when I leave my office at night. I am busier than a busy person, like really. I have no money. Currently, life is not my favourite. I am more than a little grumpy.
I decided, not wanting to wallow in a vat of my own self pity because it tastes like cold coffee (and not coffee that’s supposed to be cold, like iced coffee. I like that. I mean coffee that’s been on your desk for an hour longer than you thought, that you take a big f*ckoff mouthful of expecting it to be hot when it’s actually beyond cold and tastes vile) that I had two options:
Option 1. I could write something suitably angsty.
Option 2. I could cheer the hell up.
I’ma go with option 2 because you know what, when I actually get a grip and look around me and I am surrounded by just, by beauty and that’s something to be celebrated right?
& I’m sat here and I’m thinking about just that.
About beauty.
What is beautiful? What makes us beautiful? And I don’t just mean in an ‘oh that’s pretty’ kind of way, I mean on a deeper level than that. Think about the things in life that really really move you. The ordinary and the extraordinary, the usual and the not so usual. The things that whilst not perhaps conventionally beautiful just creep under your skin and stay there, the things that matter, that directly or indirectly shape the bigger (beautiful) picture and make it all worthwhile, that scream emotion and tell a story and make things what they are. Not just cupcakes and flowers and new shoes but heartbreak and thunderstorms and the old man at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Day with a poppy in his lapel; the things in life that are really really beautiful.
This is going nowhere.
You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make a list of things that I think are beautiful so that whenever I’m tired or I have earache or it’s cold and I have no gloves or the pile of work on my desk seens insurmountable I can look at it and I can smile because people should take more notice of the beautiful things.
(and then I’m going to go and write something suitably angsty.)