Day 694: Kindness

I had the loveliest parking attendant ever the other day. He had a very nice face and he was all ready to help me before I quite knew I was going over to talk to him. He explained where I could and couldnt' park (it really wasn't clear) and then told me, with some rule-breaking glee, that every single parking attendant here would be on holiday between 3pm yesterday and New Year's Eve, so that meant I could park where I like. "Park on double yellows if you're that way inclined," he said. "Nobody's going to do a thing about it."

Ha. I haven't! I did park in a bay without paying. The double yellows here are for good reason.. my car will get mashed by other cars if I park on them. I got my first fine the other day. It was frustrating, but once I realised that I had totally misunderstood the sign, and there was no arguing it, I paid and decided to enjoy it as 'my first ever parking ticket'. I'm not going to keep it or anything. It's already in the bin. But any way to minimise the arse.

These are times of high emotion and of grief. I am alright. The people whose situation it is are 'alright' too, in as far as they can be. It's challenging and very, very sad, but it's also full of love. People step up. Love comes out where normally it might be masked or ignored. If I could go back and change this situation by wanting it with all my might, we wouldn't be here, but since we are, we are finding little blessings and big ones, we are feeding the love, we are celebrating our first parking ticket and giving thanks for all the parking attendants who do their best to make it better for us by letting us in on their secrets. And there are so, so many of them waiting to show the kindness they have, just waiting to be called upon. 

Day 693: Your Love is an Apricot

Thank you, you forces beyond my perception, for giving me the energy, clarity and Schwung to do the Talking Like TED course on Tuesday. It went off like a dream. I was concerned, having been so ill, that I might not be able to pull it out of the bag to my own satisfaction... on Sunday, it felt like there wasn't even a bag to pull it out of. I think that was part of the mental journey of underminey fearness too. I know I know this stuff and I know I love it. 

I'm grateful, though, for all the help. I was ok on Monday, and on Tuesday, I'd almost never have known I'd been ill. I even ate normal food with no repercussions. Today is slightly more delicate, but yesterday was mint. My intentions for the course were fully met. Not all the goals were, but they were too big for the time allowed. 

If it were, it would be juicy and rich, like this one

I had a delicious nugget of professional juice yesterday. While talking about the power of metaphor, the delegates named one of the many many many talks they'd heard the day before as memorable because of a particular metaphor the speaker had used to make her point. I delved... it was a fabulous woman who'd been on the Storytelling for Leaders course I'd run at the same organisation in October, one of the first players of the suddenly made-up game, 'Your Love is an Apricot', as a vehicle to play with metaphor. She nailed it! I felt proud like a mother, and all bristly (in a good way). It's nice to make a difference, even just in that.

It's a microcosm of the world and it may not be the most lifesaving work in the world, but it is good and I love it. I get into this state of joyous, juicy flow and I enjoy every second of it. It's like the tenderest meat, the sweetest leaves, the richest of sauces. It's a feast of presence and occupation. I'm very, very lucky and very, very glad. 

In my need to do something of worth, I've been looking at the Help Refugees website. 

Did you know that you can up and buy blankets, clothes and cooking equipment direct from them here, and that you can buy gift cards for people this Christmas that do the same. We've got enough stuff, haven't we? Black Friday, my arse. Must-have gifts from amazon, my tits. This is a proper Christmas present.