you're missing the view
stopping to smell the roses doesn't exist anymore
Just a small one from me today. I originally had something a little longer but I went to edit it this morning and found I didn’t like the tone. Too preachy. Must have been in a mood when I wrote it lol. But I did manage to salvage some pieces that I liked from it which I want to share with you today.
Am I the only one who hasn’t heard the phrase “stop and smell the roses” in a while? It feels like we’re all trapped under a dome of bad news and economic crisis and the roses are probably dead or they got out while they could and are living happily outside the dome so there is nothing to smell anyway.
Today I am crawling back inside my personal shell to appreciate the small things, the pretty things, the seemingly pointless things but the things that will save us in the end. This week (and this entire newsletter tbh) we’re channelling the same energy as those news articles that seriously report on people’s toast that turned out to look like Jesus or Tony Blair or whatever. Those people have all the roses. Those people are having a good time.
Every night, the sky says goodnight with a paintbrush dipped in starlight and moonshine. So we can forget. So we can forget for a moment that the world is on fire. I look up at the dying sky in December, I look at the sunshine peeking between tree branches in July, I look at the browning leaves I step on with my boots in October and I think, how beautiful it is to be alive.
I look at the raindrops on my window separate into their veins and streams and the way dark clouds roll across the sky which tells me it’s time to light my candles. I look at the tiny rivers that run in between pebbles and rocks and the soil that gets trapped under my shoes that I bring to my carpeted floors like a souvenir and I think, how wonderful it is to be alive.
We all try our best to be the best and that is a good thing. If we aren’t our best, we won’t be able to see the small gifts life brings us. But do not feel bad for turning your back on the how-to articles and the breaking headlines and the spilt milk and the rising petrol prices and the arguments with your mother to take a minute to look at the shadows on your walls. The ones where your houseplants and outdoor trees come together for a moment under the setting sun for one final waltz.
Life is pretty. She’s been trying to show you amidst the noise. Give her a minute of your time. You’re missing the view.
Today I am the sky. Today I am empty. Today I am meaningless; except to look at life and think how lucky we are to be alive.
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