18/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Snow! The red pillar box postbox wears a fluffy white beret.
~
Walking home with Jake after picking him up from school early.  The same path we'd walked earlier, now quiet and empty except for freshly fallen snow.  Our footsteps crunch on the still powdery surface.  I spot a trail of bird foot prints, clear and large.  He nods.  I know he isn't well when he doesn't want to stop to look, or even touch the snow.

17/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

A folded note dropped on the pavement: "Shy Girl, Read This Note." 
~
After dark: the thin layer of frost on the grass sparkles, even under the dimness of street lamps.
~
Half-frozen, water still shoots out of the top of the fountain, piercing the thin layer of ice surrounding it as it falls.  The shape of the fountain itself is shrouded in bulbous growths of ice, obscuring the man made nature of it.
~

16/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

In the middle of rushing, I catch a glimpse of blue sky and wispy white cloud out the kitchen window.  It makes me stop, smile.  Light in the sky that isn't grey!  But then I am back to rushing again.
~
In the middle of a game of trains, Jake stops to watch the Mike The Knight and I fall asleep on the floor next to the yellow lego platform.  I only realise I have done so when I wake myself up snoring.

15/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Jake, silent, focussed, scooping out the soft flesh of a baguette with a fork and stuffing his little face.
~
The happy synchronicity of being sent a hug by text from a friend, exactly when I needed it.
~
In the gap between two houses on Edward Road, a glimpse of pale peach sky underneath a blanket of grey cloud.

14th January...later

Right now, my feet are cold, my throat is tickly.  The clock ticks.  It is dark.  The weather is described as severe even though the snow didn’t stay.  Inside, I feel numbed from filling in forms and seeing the word ‘No’ next to ‘Vacancies:’ on Childcare Provider lists.  I feel lost for not knowing how things are going to turn out, things that I need to sort by an unspecified but looming date.  I think I need to eat because I haven’t eaten since this morning - a hearty Full English, with sausage and bacon and eggs and beans and mushrooms and black pudding and hash browns and half a tomato and farting ketchup and a pot of Earl Grey tea that poured me 3 cups, and toast (shared with lovely 8 month old Eva), that’s kept me going all day.  But I’m still not sure if I’m hungry yet.

I want to just be in the moment, not worry, not think so much about things I can’t physically do anything about right now, but my feet are cold and my throat is tickly and the clock ticks audibly and it is dark and I don’t have the right clothing for severe weather.  The latter fact accentuates the feeling I’ve been having lately, of being unprepared.  So I want to escape, I look around for a distraction but I know I’m looking around for a distraction so it doesn’t work.

In the Vauxhall Teahouse Theatre this morning, where I had the hearty Full English, I heard the theme to Downton Abbey on the radio which was tuned to Classic FM.  I looked up from my plate and felt the oddness of hearing the music and being where I was, without seeing the images that usually accompany them.  But for a few minutes, I was there, occupied by memories of those images, except I couldn’t place where I was in the story.

I could choose anything to be occupied with now, put on a song, pick up a book, put on a movie, see if there are any episodes of The Big Bang Theory on E4 (my favourite distraction at the moment), make toast.  But I can’t place where I am in the story of my day.  It’s as if I’ve lost my page.

14/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Leaving the tube station: snow!  The air is a shower of silent white softness that disintegrates as soon as it hits the ground.  But I bring some home on my knitted grey hat, the front of my coat, my hair.

13/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Yoshi emerges from under the sofa, with dust clinging to his black fur.  The flecks on his face make his jowls look fuller, and give him the look of an aged Patriarch.

12/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Jake in a Spiderman top and bright emerald green leggings hands me his Bob the Builder balloon and says, "Here's your balloon your majesty." 
~
Playing "We'll meet again" on the ukulele, I think of a friend who's lost a friend today, and hope she isn't alone tonight.
~
A lone magpie sways atop a leafless Sycamore, its tail moving up and down like a rudder, keeping balance in the wind.

11/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

On the overground train, two teenage boys get on at Hackney Downs, talking about exam results.  One is hoping to get two A*'s and an A.  "That would be sweet.  If you get that, it's Cambridge man.  Yup, Cambridge...imagine rocking up there on the first day in that neon tracksuit!"

~

In the still new waiting room of Children's Outpatients, a lift-the-flap book sits on top of a locked white cabinet, too high for small arms to reach.  On the front cover, a faded sticker that reads, "For Distraction Only."

~

Leaving the waiting room, someone else's tiny child with big dark eyes and a mini red duffel coat follows us.  Paul has to take her back to her mother.

10/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Sitting on the sofa with Jake, his feet (in Spiderman high top trainers) just dangle over the edge, a bowl of popcorn between us.  Between crunching Jake says, "Do you want me to fart on you?" ~ Pfffffft ~ "I just did!"

9/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

As I look out the window to search the sky for traces of blue, my eye finds instead the powder blue water butte, blue clothes pegs on a faded green line, the turquoise of the upturned paddling pool.

8/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Sunrise ~ for a few minutes only, the blue-ing sky streaked with pink and orange holds a sliver of still shining moon.

7/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Two dogs on their leads as their owner stops to talk ~  the Golden Retriever lies down, the Jack Russell stands, his nose in the air, sniffing at everyone who walks by.

6/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

On the shower curtain, the green medicine cabinet, miniaturised and suspended in a drop of water.

5/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

After waking but before words, you slip your small hand into mine.  I cradle the curve of your fingers like the breast of a small bird. 

4/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

8am ~ a row of starlings on the fishbone antenna, chirping and calling, electrified whistling.

3/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Jake, aged 4, dressed as Batman, sports a turquoise coloured, bubble gum flavoured, ice cream beard.

2/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

Two for Joy

A pair of magpies perch on
bare branches of a Plane tree.
As soon as I get my camera ready
they are gone.

1/31 ~ January Mindful Writing

The neighbour's barbeque, rusted round its oval edges, makes a basin of last year's rain water, reflecting a tilted sky.

~

Kaspa & Fiona (Satya) at Writing Our Way Home are hosting another month long mindful writing challenge.
They are inviting people to "Pay more attention and fall in love with the world."
I couldn't resist.
How about you?

Merry Christmas, Namaste

Whatever your beliefs, whatever your traditions, May Your Heart Be Light :-)