Off guard moments

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I get on the bus this morning, my mind present yet far away. The morning is lovely. I think I’m going to watch the sky today. I have a book in my bag that I have loved on for weeks. Reading the last chapter though means saying goodbye and I don’t want to say goodbye. Read More

Imagining lives

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Walking home in the sunshine, she dragged her feet. It was too lyrical to rush through, the sun, the moment. Her feet stuck to the ground resisting the pull of gravity. The earth beneath was bold and beautiful, demanding stillness in everything that lay atop of it. Read More

Friday shots: neighbours in the morning

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Most days I rise to the sound of my neighbours. Their voices enter my fading dreams like characters in a story, pulling and pushing me in and out of two worlds.

It is the normal conversations of a morning. Filled with goodmorning greetings, breakfast, laughter and don’t do thats. The exchange of their words bounce off the walls and through the air finding their way down to me. I live on the ground floor. They live above me.

There is something reassuring about mornings where your neighbours’ banter wafts through your concrete walls and interweaves into your day. A reminder that there are so many other people who call this big, wide world home. That I am a sharer of all I have.

Sometimes I bump into them at my door as I leave my house. Grandmother awkwardly giving me way as she pulls the pram her daughter is pushing. The baby inside quiet and peaceful.

I smile. And I want to say no need for the awkwardness. I know what you had for breakfast. But I simply say hello and scurry off into my day carrying little pieces of them with me. Because the truth is they, at some point or another, merge into my world.

 

 

Friday shots: a person

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What makes a person special?

Is it the way the unique molecules collect together to form the individuality?

Or is it the reflection of us in them we see?

Or perhaps the way the person’s life intersects with our own?

If it is anything real, specialness is often unquantifiable. It walks into another’s life and the whole atmosphere reconstructs. And what used to be impossible emerges into the real.

A person can bring you back. Back to the place where you function from the whole. Back to the beginning and the end. Back to God. A person can pull the strings back for you, gathering all the parts of you and handing them back to you. With everything afar and inbetween, the person stays and loves you through the hard bits. The person brings you back.

This, is a special person.

Friday shots: waiting for trains

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I sit on platforms and wait.

I wait for trains. A thousand other people wait with me. Their sounds, I internalise. Their humanity I recognise. For I am a manifestation of the same spaces they dwell in, in their minds. I am them. These people who wait for trains with me have sweat beads dancing on their foreheads, familiar smells of bodies and foaming life.

Even when they offer me unfamiliar, cold stares, they speak of only one thing – flesh & blood. Humanness.

I recline my head and turn my attention back to my writing. I continue waiting for trains. Because I know that as long as I wait, the train eventually comes.