Tiny triumphs. That is today's incipient theme.
Going merrily about my daily routine (or at least, with as much cheer as one can muster at 06:30 on a Tuesday...), I came to put on my jewellery for the day and discovered I had reached a stumbling block: the tangle of necklaces that would undoubtedly hinder my progress. With a sigh, I set to unravelling the metallic weave and endeavouring to retrieve the chain of choice. A few minutes went by, and I was at the point of giving up hope for the day and doing without when my stubborn streak kicked in. Sure enough, competitive nature won through - I was able to detangle the entire knot without too much of a delay. I felt a small wave of elation, for as minor as this win may have been (and I am under no illusion as to the grandeur of my achievement, fear not) it still helped me start the day well and without grudge or gripe.
Other such recent events to help set the day up for a smile have included a waitress defending her bar and its patrons' possessions from young thieves, who intended to pinch whatever possible (including, oddly, my soggy brolly which was quietly dripping by the door) until they were magnificently thwarted by the valiant lady and her relentless shooing. On a less tangible note, there was also a rallying unison during the recent metro strikes, with disgruntled citizens coming together to help each other into/out of the melee...
Tube strike uniting old and young alike, all for one and one for all - the crowd turning itself inside out to aid and abet fellow journeyers as they conquer the metro's defiant delays and amassing hordes. It is surprising how oft the train thus transforms itself, how fine the line between a collected assortment of unknown individuals and a group come together through the sharing of an attitude, idea, purpose, or even just a smile... A random chap begins a series of owl noises, and the surrounding carriage feels a fleeting unison as shy grins are exchanged for understanding glances, and all social walls are momentarily broken by his harmless yet untoward behaviour. This type of practice is uncommon, for it is not the done thing to smile at those we do not know. It implies a level of 'more'. At what age do we stop appreciating each other simply for being human beings born into this world? It is deemed perfectly acceptable to smile at children, babies especially, waving at them in their prams or rewarding their very existence with a grin or even a treat. Yet to do this to youths or adults would be rather frowned upon. Bizarre.
I, for one, would like to take the time here and now to say that humanity is pretty darn awesome. The ways in which we come through for each another, as much in the everyday tiny assistance as in grand gesture scale of things, are quite remarkable. From the mundane such as holding doors for complete strangers that extra second longer just because they are older or heavily laden, to friendly off-hand compliments slipped in unexpectedly, brightening your day with a few simple words.
But I digress. True, I love the way we humankind help each other out, yadda yadda. The point of today's musings, however, was to revel in the delight of everyday occurrences that are in themselves unremarkable, but which compositely get you out on the right side of the metaphorical bed. The most basic of these is invariably weather-related for most of us: the sun coming out suddenly elevates moods and spirits, especially when unexpected. And on the odd occasion that this sparks a rainbow, let alone a full one, why then the joy just keeps on spreading, doesn't it?! Like the sky is leaking happy. Or something like that. Leastways, my personal favourite aspect thereof is not the plethora of colour dazzling the skies (for somehow, no matter how old, I always, always want to chase it and see about that pesky mythical leprechaun... thanks, Dad, for the horseplay of that disappointing impossibility. Just like the tomfoolery regarding mountain sheep, which do not, in fact, have two legs shorter than the others if they go in the same direction for too long. Ahh childhood naivety. Thank heavens I never checked to see about the removal of 'gullible' from the dictionary. Moving swiftly on.) - no, the quirk that floats my particular boat in this scenario is - I was recently delighted to learn - known as 'petrichor'; the smell of the earth after the rain. Natural bliss.
In slightly less hippie ideals, there are many more silver linings to be appreciated in life. Favourite songs being played on the radio, finding all the right ingredients you need already in the cupboard, mixing together two terrible-tasting drinks to get rid of them... and creating a delicious cocktail, re-starting a batch of cakes and STILL having enough ingredients, having to kill time waiting for someone and happening across a replete little watering hole to while away the delay, getting to the end of the month and realising you have just enough to pull together a meal or make ends meet to tide you over until the next big weekly shop. Dream.
It doesn't all have to be about happenstance either - you can, to an extent, premeditate your mini-good fortune: stashing away a twenty in a wallet crevice to be discovered at a later date, overdoing it a tad at the gym so that you can award yourself some sneaky booze or chocolate (NB I am not, of course, advocating nor indeed admitting to any such healthcare regime...), planning out your week a little so that you have time to do the things you want to do, saying yes to new opportunities or events because they sound like good fun, without feeling you have to (riskily) wait for a group approval to participate. This weekend, I went solo to a street concert (compadres were disabled by varying degrees of hangover, poor mites), and the result was I had a whale of a time. Ambling around the city in the sunshine, not impelled to anyone or anything, pitches a delightfully nomadic freedom and bestows the tantalising gift of possibility: of adventures waiting to happen, secrets to be unveiled, felicity to be found in heretofore uncharted waters. Well; go forth and prosper, say I...
