Day 508: Looking Through the Eyes of Love

Reptile Experience

This morning's headache went away. For that, I'm more grateful than you can possibly imagine. I'm also grateful that it's so normal to forget pain when it isn't happening. I feel overflowing with thanks for that. Lordy. It's good that I can't recall the sensation. Pleasurable sensations are easier to recreate. Nature got THAT right! 

My taxi driver last night gave me glee by announcing in the most deadpan, unvarying voice possible, that 'Your address is next to the Booth Museum. I went there once for a Reptile Experience.' Something about his delivery and deadly seriousness made me suspect I was in a sitcom. His next question, 'So what phobias do you have' (same tone) didn't really help to change that. Finally, as I got out, he told me he had been to see his parents and had fallen down the steps in their garden, ripping the only good pair of jeans he has. The silver lining, though (his words), was that he didn't break any bones. I did find the whole thing very funny... and at the same time I was charmed and warmed by his candour and straightforwardness. Both things can be true. His delivery was undeniably comedic, but I was laughing at it and the absurdness of the situation, not him. 

Also last night, a musical evening chez les Grundels, with Waller and Ella and ConnorJatter. Didn't notice the name glee last night. Now I do. Rob, Pam and Finn. WallerEllaConnerJatter. Ha. Lovely company, soup and scones to die for and then me and Pam went to see Moon Project. I don't know who you are, you readers, but if you're the kind of person who books shows into places, or loves theatre, speak to Rachel Blackman. She done this. It's really good. Both performances, the music, the narrative choices. GOOD STUFF. And RB - wow! Suitably blown away.

Good chats with Grundel and Waller, separately this time. Good wanderings in Brighton. A serendipitous library book and a thing explained, one deleted, one awaited. 

A lovely exchange with a guide-dog-training stranger who works in Woodford Green (spooky) saved me/gave me £3 in a very convoluted way. A lovely pair of gloves with indoor and outdoor potential (i.e. mitten flaps).

No bean shot comes close to the pretty of my breakfast

This morning, I read more about love. Here's the concept. While very close to dying of cancer, a woman the writer knew was elated because she could see love as a kind of glowing thing that passed between people.  A couple in love would have this glow, and so would people doing kind things, so the nurses who came to care for her and give her medication would glow, as would someone who mopped the floor. The invitation in this book was to look through similar eyes and see where you can see acts of love taking place.

Doesn't matter where it
comes from. Love is love

A pair of small brothers holding each other's hands tightly brought sudden tears to my eyes as I rode down the hill. The smile and bright 'hello' of the man in the very Italian cafe was an act of love, as was the other guy sneaking in and doing a stealth wipe of my table as I sat down. The interaction between him and the girl on the sofa was full of it, and the delicacy with which he asked if he could take the little jug from my table was too. And oh, the Posho baked beans on toast - beautifully arranged, sprinkled with parsley and drizzled with pretty lines of balsamic around the edges. That was a whole love offering! And his almost-squeal when I said that he'd done British food better than any Brit. 

This way?

I like this game. I wonder if this blog might share its focus for a while - gratitude and acts of love. I wonder what difference that will make. Lets see, shall we?