Strawberry Ice cream
Life Is In The Details
Dear friend,
I’ve a double diamond glass tankard next to me. It holds a half pint of water according to the weights and measures crown engraved into it. I believe it was liberated from a seaside pub decades ago by my grandad. He had a fondness for helping himself to glasses from pubs, or it could’ve been Dad who brought it home.
Mam would’ve disapproved.
It’s now a treasured family heirloom. I can follow it in my mind into all of the permeations of our kitchen right back to when we first moved into Sarsfield road. I’ve a few photographs of it. Meals at the table at the back of the living room where we ate together. There’s one of me in my twenties with Mam. She has her arms around me and I’m attempting to smile for the camera.
I’ve never enjoyed being photographed much.
Christmases, birthdays, cold beans on buttered bread after swimming lessons at the local municipal pool. Vesta curries. The ones you add boiling water to. The food tasting incredible due to the intense hunger and the effects of the heavily chlorinated water on the back of your throat.
When we cleared out the old house, it was little things like this that I wanted to keep. I’ve a silver salmon ornament set on an a section of antler bone and a little ceramic dear with one of it’s ears super glued on. I think it was me who broke it during an enthusiastic game of soldiers one rainy afternoon. I remember the loops the carpet was made of, how the plastic tracks of our action man tank would catch on them and it would pull the tracks off the wheels.
And Mam’s tea towels. I have some of them.
I find it surprising how many details surface in these letters, but that’s how our minds work.
We store details more than generalities.
Working with clients on childhood events it’s details, like the smell and feel of a jumper or the pattern on a fabric that will evoke a memory. Or it could be a look, or the tone of a word.
Life’s in the details.
Paying attention to the moment.
I’m so aware of it nowadays, the laying down of memories. It’s been an emotionally challenging week and there have been times when all I’ve really wanted to do is curl up with a cup of tea and rest, but our friend’s daughter Mercan has her tenth birthday coming up and so you find the energy to get out and forage round the shops for a gift and a card and a nice box to out it all in. Then drive over with the gifts and share in the privilege of being part of a happy memory.
I’ve noticed immense amounts of energy come doing the right thing for someone else.
I guess it’s the same for you.
The energy of the universe flows into us.
It’s here, in us and all around. Always.
Loving and supportive when we learn to turn to the invisible source of supply.
Sometimes you’re just exhausted and it’s food and a shower and rest that you need.
Whichever way your day is unfolding, and especially if it’s not going so well, be kind.
There’s no advantage to mental cruelty, neither to yourself nor to another.
Only the false self sees any value in it.
It’s Luke’s birthday this week too. So many summer babies. We’re going to see a play this evening called “The Death of England”. I guess it’s going to be cathartically dystopian.
Mercan will be tucking in to her birthday cake which has a layer of strawberry ice cream, which she’s loved since was the tiniest little thing.
I heard a quote from Dusty Springfield earlier this day on a podcast I listen to. She was asked how she felt about being a legend. Her reply?
“A legend? I suspect I am to some people, but frankly it’s nothing special.”
It’s the small things that count.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey