A Gorgeous Time
And a wee story…
I bought Billy Connolly’s book Tall Tales and Wee Stories, as I have meant to read it for an age, and the intro is just like a release. Much here comes out in the wrong order, and therefore, I curse a lot, but I couldn’t give a…
So here is a short tale: the watch is my beloved mother’s, and I have many of her timepieces.
Due to their seasoned age, I have yet to secure watch batteries for some of them successfully. I recently wrote a piece on my obsession with timepieces and time, but these maternal ones are deeply embedded in my heart.
And so today, I finally got a battery for this one at least, and my heart is full of light; I am floating, and as I was walking along in my own lighter head and heart world, a teenage boy in his own world bumped into me. I seldom flinch when this happens anymore, as I am so desensitised to it in society that perhaps my fight or flight now doesn’t activate, although this has been said to me by many people before in other contexts. I seldom startle at much. Maybe it’s because I have learned to put myself in protective autist trances but can exit them consciously to notice what is important when needed, or I could be well-regulated as my body is not tense. I am calm and currently in alignment with my lightness.
However, I became aware of him walking back towards me.
I feel a gentle tap on my arm.
‘I’m so sorry for banging into you’, and he backs away, bowing his head.
His demeanour and manners blow me away, for it is so seldom anyone apologises for such bumps these days that for it to happen is a reminder for me today that bitesize chunks of faith being restored in humanity is always welcome, if not in abundance lately.
I tell him it’s okay; it’s all okay, honestly.
It’s always a gorgeous time to be alive and notice the good in others.
Grá Mór
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