Grateful Friday

Winter seems to be here. The cold hasn't crept in unnoticed as usual, but turned up unexpected one wintery day. I don't mind and quite enjoyed digging out thermals, scarf, hat and legwarmers in one day... my hands were cold on the cycle yesterday morning so I'd better hunt for some gloves soon too. So, on this blistery Friday I am grateful for:

1. Autumn fashion - layering is made for me! I adore nothing more than leaving the house in six layers all wrapped up like origami away from the biting wind. And I get to wear legwarmers all the time, what more could a girl want?

2. Potato and bacon gratin - real comfort food. I made up a recipe and cooked this for H and I this week, it was delicious!

3. A surprise day tomorrow - I don't know where I'm going but I know I'll be too excited to sleep tonight :-)

4. Remembering what matters in life, and forgetting the rest. Chaos has visited me too many times to count over the last month. And while there have been times of sadness, of fear, of truth, of loneliness, of despair and of helplessness, there have also been flickers of love and joy and reality and truth and openness - gorgeously beautiful moments with those whom I am honoured to share this life with. You know who you are, and this week it's you whom I'm most grateful for, a thousand thank yous.

What unites us

We are all human, a fact I rarely ponder or reflect upon. Within our humanity the world is divided into a plethora of sub-groups, we gravitate to our own kind, to those we feel a sense of affinity with... those who 'get' us in some way. Yet I wonder if we would be richer if we stepped outside ourselves for a while and looked at the 'other' a little more. I am middle-class, I live in a 'nice' neighbourhood. People pick up litter, children play outside and I feel safe walking home at midnight from the tube... yet this week I found myself witness to an attack on a man outside my house who wasn't like me. He didn't look like anyone I would hang around with, or even speak to, yet he allowed me to put my arm around him and looked me in the eye as blood fell in sheets down his face and splashed onto the tarmac. I wished him well as the ambulance took him away and wondered why I had found him, and not someone else, someone stronger, someone who would have known what to do. I wonder at the dispirate nature of life, how divided we are from those outside our front doors and how diferent my life is from the man I found that night. I am troubled by the memories. His eye with the gash, his mumbling, the way his glasses were contorted and twisted on top of the car bonnet where he banged his head. I try to forget, but the images come back to me on the waves of sleep, and I wake up sweating.

Two days later I am in A&E with another attack of an illness I'm fighting. My face is hot and shiny, the room warm and my throat dry. I lie in pain waiting for someone to come, while the canula in my arm drips blood onto the stiff sheets. Half-naked and alone I am helpless. I cannot leave, bound as I am with needles to this room of sickness. As another red spot of blood bulges through the pink plastic tap on my wrist, I am reminded of the man on the road and the gash in his eye, of the blood that poured from his face, and of the way we are united by our humanity. We may not look the same, sound the same, think the same, but undeneath we are blood... and that is never going to change.

The weeping willow

The willow weeps openly for all to see.
The branches hide not shame, nor guilt,
Nor sadness, nor lack of love,
Nor difficultly, nor indifference...
They weep openly for all to see,
And if you care to look closely
The tears are falling, falling,
Falling, for you.