Microscope or telescope?

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Some look through a microscope and see the slightest flaw,
The dirty shoes, the gross tattoo, a failing they abhor.
I far prefer another lens, through which to cast my gaze,
That sees the prime potential I hope one day will raise,
And flourish with a breath of hope and make our voices sing.
That taking on strong forces vile will triumph in the ring.

It’s easy to see the flaws in things, in people. Demolition requires little skill compared to building (though often the more popular pursuit). It takes, vision, effort, and perseverance to build. So let’s be sure as we set out each day to bring with us a telescope.

life is good!

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I’ve come downstairs the last two days not to the sickly smell that it seemed I could never quite get rid of (we seemed to be taking it in turns to be sick over the last month) but to the glorious smell of the lilies in my mother’s day bouquet. They were beautiful from the beginning but now they fragrance the whole apartment. The sun has been shining and spring is promising it’s arrival. My hyacinth (another mother’s day gift) has doubled in size promising future fragrance. Such encouraging pressies for the tail end of winter!
Not only that but my daughter (who’s been staying with me since returning to the UK) has just found a cute little place just around the corner for her and her son and hopes to move in right after Easter. You can see why I’m smiling!

How I met the most incredible human being.

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My faith in humanity got a recent boost when one of my daughters asked to add her partner’s sister to our pub steak night, explaining.
“She’s really nice. You’ll like her.”
Like her we certainly did!
First there was her appearance. the dramatic black topped dress blossoming into a bright gold and black bell shape worthy of a stage production, set off by long waist length plaits and minimal make up.
Her answers to the “usual questions” were far from usual. She lived in a converted warehouse, home to many artists, musicians and travelers, (and those just seeking a cheap place to live in London). An aspiring artist herself (waitressing to pay the bills)she showed me some of her work. I was impressed by the vivid, exuberant colour (beginning to feel already an affinity due to my former art studies etc.)
She understood, to become a success in the sordid world of art there had to be compromises, major compromises! (I recall my same realization.) Not prepared to do that, she planned to study physiotherapy in her mother’s native Finland. An enterprise I encouraged her in as a worthwhile and rewarding profession.
She spoke of the social community in which she lived, the fun they had, blossoming against all odds in London’s cosmopolitan hierarchy.
She was free! She reminded me of myself long, long ago and hope blossomed. There were still people like that around, whole communities of them that saw through the fabricated rat race of society, that wanted no part of it. My heart blossomed with joy for this wild flower growing amid the city streets.

A Man in the Making.

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from July 2014

Song Bird Songs

don

Two big puppy dog eyes, too innocent for a nine year old, shine out above an over sized smile, topping arms and legs like a gangling colt. He seems all eyes and smile balanced precariously on winnowy stilts, never still for a moment. He’s growing up now, character forming, his questions get deeper as he gets longer.
I asked him why he pays such exaggerated compliments to the middle aged crossing lady, saying she looks more beautiful every day etc. He pondered seriously for a moment then said he likes to make people happy, it made him feel good.
The lolly-pop lady is not the only one, every day he leaves a trail of smiles behind as we wend our way to school and back, every dog must be complimented, every baby admired, every child waved to. He sees the whole world as friends or potential friends. He sees things…

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