LIFTED
This morning, the cool air brings the smell of hash browns as the traffic builds its familiar rush.
Alt text offers no suggestion for this week’s photo. I say it is my sister, me and my mum in the lift after coffee and before a little shopping spree. I love this moment in time from our lovely, shared day, and the fact I remembered to take a photo.
This week I learned that I am a competent pumpkin carver. Good company, a simple design idea, a whiteboard marker pen and a last-minute pumpkin purchase resulted in a Trick or Treat worthy exhibit which made me smile.
It has been like adopting a mini half-term this week... catching up with a good friend, time with family, carving that pumpkin, having a toffee apple, going to a big firework display, landing on the settee of lovely people and having a photograph taken... and perhaps there will always be echoes of school holidays even though I no longer have these as an absolute in my working life. It certainly felt good to celebrate those echoes this week and mark the time of year with a mini pause.
Recently, I found myself dithering, or, as I now like to call it, playing a game of ‘Decision Tennis’. I felt the need to google that term to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently stolen it from someone, and I don’t think I have, but please someone correct me if I am wrong. I rather like it because for me it sums up that feeling of not dedicating time to getting my thoughts in order which then results in experiencing the to and fro tennis game of ‘I think I will’ / ‘No, actually, I won’t’. It’s the kind of thinking that tells you it needs attention because it’s still there when you wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes during this kind of thinking my brain seems to sort things out in the background and then serve me the answer in a sure and powerful ace, other times it plays on like a tiring rally. This time a coaching conversation arrived just at the right moment to help me explore my thinking out loud and end the ongoing rally.
Last night I saw a prowling fox underneath a waxing moon in a wide dark sky, and it got me thinking of full moons. I stood still for a moment and remembered the year I stood in silence under each full moon before writing it a poem. This week’s poem was written back then...
BEAVER MOON
We stood under the sky
knowing the moon
would soon be full,
finding fireworks to match
those moments that have us breathless.
I told you that beavers are rodents –
the second largest after capybaras.
You said you didn’t even know they were rodents.
I told you that my favourite firework
is the jellyfish that comes
after the Roman Candles
which follow that rapid explosion
of rocket after rocket.
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