Writing back

Today it would seem entirely appropriate to write back in response to the last entry. Now settled and fuelled with a counter point of view, one has decided to situate the city experience in juxtaposition to the Beautiful West Country (does one sense favouritism here?). The reader may question this attempt to explicate some essential sense of difference in how one feels from one location to another. Simply I respond by saying it matters. To illustrate how ‘un-wasted’ a smile is, in This Place as opposed to That, feel the difference as you read. So, rather like an essay title of compare and contrast if you like, spot the odd in gaming fashion or any other fitting and most appalling cliché ridden-statement applicable, if you prefer. I prefer, you understand, not to write them at all if possible, clichés make me nauseous. And so to the point; through the multitudinal guises of daily life, here, not all seas are calm but, say one day, if I dressed as Charlie Chaplin per-se, with hat and cane in white gloved hand, the societal response would arguably be the same. Yes a raised brow perhaps and/ or chuckle. Smile. I would not be equated with a more contempory version of Conrad’s “the horror, the horror” neither would I be cast overboard without a net, marginalised by default or sectioned. Further, a truer illustration of events would depict the black tack-tached female invited in for a drink at the local. Bet you.

Phase 1- A positive guise in daily life.

Let us start with the run. Often I am engaged with this mind-cleanse activity where to pummel your troubles, exorcise your angst and to breathe the sea liberates more than a calorific lunch paunch. Transport this event, in Lycra, to a coastal location. Burn, bounce and rebound one’s step to running wave dodge mode; a very fun fancy if you dare, mastered too well over an age, said with an almost alas note… I digress… This glorious place, space of sea air, expanse of beauty (and any other assonance I can incorporate in that sentence) is, of course, an opportune location to engage with some ‘serious’ eye-full engaging smiling activity. Oxymoron? Serious smile? Good. I like that. So in place and pace to say a Cult classic like ‘She Sells Sanctuary’ on approaching one’s fellow human kind, think eye, think response, observe the corners of the mouth curving upward, reflect and you have it. The ‘un-wasted’ gesture is in place; it has been experienced, shared and passed on. Without words, put forward like a flutter of serendipity, a gesture of good will and kindness of human ‘kind’. Feel better? I always do. Apply this umbrella term of ‘smile’ to the masses one sees in a typical day here. In fact turn the literal umbrella upside down to a metaphorical curvy catch of something good as opposed to wet dispel; drink smiles in as opposed to running from them. Incidentally the ‘masses’ include, amongst many others, fellow runners, cyclists, skateboarders, walkers, some with dogs (I add most clever dogs to avoid frappage of leads in bicycle wheels of the leash controller) and the wisened elders with beautifully sun-burnished faces. Nearly all of the wonderful sea-front stream of beings smile. Like a near reflex reaction on sight of another, there is no ‘city’ eye drop, challenge or hollow stare to digest and make sense of. The city experience again, that appears to require these actions plied with that important ‘getting somewhere pace’ in soldier swing protocol is not at play here. It IS safe to assume that eye engagement is a wholly okayed norm. It is permissible to wear smiles unaccompanied by D&G, Versace or Prada. One need not think, “Is this acceptable to those”. It just is. Thank Gods to all that refute the steely action in preference to a more amicable reaction. Top tip, once applied it becomes easier.
Phase 2 – The ‘down-trodden’ guise that would prefer to reside in disguise.

Sometimes, dear friends, the only linkage one has to another is a smile. By that I suggest one needs not to know you to be able to smile at you. Write that down for future reference. I did and confess to having some of the most inspirational lifts from the depths of Hades in direct response to an honest given grin. To exemplify the notion cue a sad cello from somewhere…actually no, Mozart Piano Concerto 21 in C, K 467: II Andante-Elvira Madigan. Yesterday I reluctantly attended a funeral of a very dear friend. Love for the lost, respect and support for the family concerned forced ‘the show’ on this sombre, abhorrent occasion. Nausea, nerves and fear of unpredictable sobs unleashing themselves at any given moment were the unwanton extras. Never enough tissues and a throat unable to sing for the hymns for sobs welling and heaving added to the sour combination. This I anticipated, had confirmed and reliably fell apart as the sermon chronologically structured a life. A life bitterly missed for selfish reasons. One family less now I draw focus on the journey to and from the church for very good reason. In no apparent state to be delivering a grin, either way, I was to discover my theory to be correct. No I did not want eye contact. Yes I preferred to reside behind the infamous black glasses. Hesitantly looking from pavement crack to the general direction of destination (to avoid a further unneeded fall) I received a number of smiles as I looked up. Most of these individuals were totally unknown to me, an influx of visitors perhaps or simply just happy to be here. It helped, a difference was established in my dark, flailing frame of mind and I, though short bursts of relief, felt better. Consider this a thank-you virtual style to those that did not judge from sloping shoulders adorning black.

A smile is beautiful
a silent statement
a knowing that glows
confirming an ok
a suggestion at times
that things are okay,
it will be okay
in time
sometimes
a smile
is like an indication
that states
the pure elation of being alive.

Not a lecture, a difference, just saying.

Today I remember a dear friend from Ulster