Thekla posted a story about soup a few days ago and during a chat conversation about the post, I told her that I felt like a little bowl of soup right now. The obvious question was asked i.e. how does a little bowl of soup feel. The answer is obviously a tricky one and one mustn’t get stuck on the word soup as it is much more about the word little to me. I remember when I first went to New York for a visit. The whole trip had been quite momentous as I was not only visiting the most exciting city in the world, but was also trying to decide whether I could build a life there. On my final day I had put my last bit of cash into a breakfast which turned out not to be fancy, but just very expensive. Since the only other money I had left, I needed to put aside for my taxi to the airport, I asked the snotty waitress to give me a doggy bag for my fruit salad so I would have some form of lunch.
I walked through the city and when it started raining I continued walking as I had no $1.50 left to take the subway. I still remember the corner of Lafayette and Houston when I looked down at my at the doggie bag I was holding and thought Oh no, my little bag is already wet.
I’m not sure what it is, but something about the use of the word little in both instances seem significant to me. It appears to be a reflection of me in both cases, feeling somehow little and insignificant to the world. It’s hard to describe and sometimes even harder to get out of. In New York it was just the case of me using my emergency credit card and instead of having wet fruit salad lunch, going to a really nice Soho restaurant for pasta.
For right now I am following the advice of my aunt: If you can’t muster enthusiasm or joy for your life i.e. feeling like a little bowl of soup; practise acceptance of the way things are i.e. soup is not so bad.
In addition I like to turn it around a bit and look at the little things that actually bring beauty to life and can make a huge difference. These past few days there were these:
Julia “recovering” my birthday balloons which I lost due to a gale force wind in Gardens. Or so she says…
Gooseberries growing thanks to Ian and against my better judgement and yes, he is looking quite smug every time he checks on them now…
Delivery of good fortune in the best form possible: dipped in white chocolate and decorated with a star.
My newest book obsession: Q – A love story. What can be better?
Last but not least my new favourite website which makes everything just better just by looking at it: www.intrepidtravel.com , which leaves only one question: India or Morocco first?