i was sad and then it went away.

 

I had the sadness this morning.  When dealing with this sort of unhappiness, and being forced to be in public, I did what I always do.  I phoned home.  For some reason, it feels much more sane to have tears streaming down your face while having a phone to your ear, than it does to be the random person walking down the street who is crying and occasionally having trouble breathing due to slight hyperventilation.  After talking to my dad, who was exactly as I needed him to be at that moment, I phoned my sister.  Sisters are great.  They make you laugh and it doesn’t matter that you just blubbered something incoherent into the phone, because they know that it translates into ‘I’m just so sad’ and they don’t make fun of you for sounding like you have sand in your mouth.  I talked with her while I wandered down the hill towards the ferry that I take to work every morning.  By this time there was a lot of laughing mixed in with the tears.  I wasn’t quite ready to deal with strangers in an enclosed space where I would be trapped on water, so I walked to my bench by the seawall and sat down.  This bench and I go way back.  It’s where I sit when I’m sad, usually because a relationship has just ended, and I’m always on the phone with my sister while I sit there.  The trek down the hill had brought on a coughing fit that is courtesy of the strep throat I have just recovered from and the sound I make when I cough is not unlike the honking sound that geese make.  So there I was, with the crying and the laughing and the honking, and things suddenly didn’t seem so bad.  Sure, people made a wide circle around me and avoided making eye contact and I startled someone so much with an unexpected cough that they actually jumped, but damnit, I felt a little better.  And you know, after that, things just kept improving.          

what’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours.

 

I just had a relationship end.  Two nights of intense, heartfelt and completely candid talking culminated in us saying goodbye.  There just wasn’t enough chemistry.  And we faked it for a long time.  There’s a lot more to it than that, but there always is, isn’t there?  It’s never a simple story.  Yes, it can be broken down into the basic elements, but the whole story still exists.  That deeper story is very real to the people living it, but it’s not that important to the spectators.  And that’s ok.  No one else but the two people involved can ever truly know what happened or what was felt.  Other people can relate based on their own experiences, but it’s never quite the same, really. 

 

That’s the good thing about relationships that end – you will learn from the experience because something about it will be different than any experience you’ve ever had. 

grace in small things. 29 of 365.

 

  1. being able to talk to people who love you when you are having a very unhappy morning.
  2. no matter how bad a situation, never losing your sense of humour.
  3. having a conversation with someone that turns your whole day around, and having that conversation inspire them as much as it helped you.
  4. not regretting decisions.
  5. taking a dear friend out for dinner to say thank you for everything they have done for you recently. 

ten minute drive and a world away.

 

I like Chinatown.  I love the overwhelming smells, and the man who yells out a never-ending list of random things, like ‘movie tickets!’ and ‘do you want some tea?’ to no one in particular.  I like the cheap and brightly coloured items that make me clap my hands with delight when I discover something new.  There is an old cabinet with chipped green paint that I covet in my favourite store.  It has been in the shop for as long as I have been going there.  I like to visit it, open its doors and run my hands along the sides.  It is one of those things that make me totally and completely happy and I hope that one day, if things work out, I’ll be able to bring it home and open the doors to my heart’s content, run my hands along the sides and love it unconditionally. 

 

I always go to Chinatown with the same person.  She is equally enamoured of the trinkets and bright colours and she lets me spend as long as I need picking out the perfect item from the pile of items that are, to the untrained eye, exactly the same.  Our little adventures remind us of foreign countries that we long to return to.  One day we will get back there, but for now we are content to explore this different world within the walls of our city.

 

Hanging Fish

Parasols

Building

Fish Vases

Barrels