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Thursday, 15 January 2015

An Everyday Spectator

      the sun's rays radiated something she understood all along...                                 


I have heard it said that to gain a clearer perspective sometimes one needs to give distance to the situation.
So I became a spectator of my own life.
The mornings that I start early at the cafe where I work, have presented me with this startling privilege.          
                                            


I am gone before my hubby and chiluns are even out of bed so when I arrive back home in the early part of the afternoon, 
I am left to surmise what may or may not have all taken place in my absence.
Somehow they do not feel the need to raise window blinds or make beds....(or put the milk away...)
           their time has been allotted for a speedy departure.
                   




I almost feel like an intruder as I walk in and discover life's play by play scenes and the stuff that comes  with it...
the good, bad and wonderful middle. (or muddle I like to call it)
                        



The every day muddle looks beautiful, and I know without a shadow of doubt that I belong here; in the every day muddle... 


                                 lunch while I write this:)

It is the removing of myself from it on occasion that helps me grasp the beauty and breath that it richly contains.
                                              

                               
                                     

                   
              Things come suitable to their time....(Enid Bagnold)                                                        

2 comments:

  1. love it! and it is only love that makes the messy beautiful:)

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  2. Somehow, when one is the spectator, and not the doer, such scenes of everyday life seem, for a second or two, strange to us, as being away from the hustle and bustle of morning routines, the remains of them, can be an intriguing canvas upon which to gaze.

    Poppy

    ReplyDelete

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