His bench is where I go to say hello and good-bye and I love you, even though he’s with me always. One late September afternoon, a day before leaving London last year, I drove to where the bench is, in Dulwich College. I parked in front of the Great Hall. As I stepped out of the driver’s seat, something twinkled on the tarmac. I looked down and just by the rear wheel on my side of the car lay a black friendship-band with a silver heart. Just the kind of casual thing he would get for me. I picked it up and looked around. The car park was deserted. No claimants. I slipped it on my right wrist, convinced this gift was left at that particular spot, specifically for me. I wonder if that’s true or plain silly.
What if she is me and I, her. What if the baby is equally everybody’s? What if at our core we knew that we all share the same Being. What if we experience ourselves as nothing but Awareness experiencing itself? I wonder if that would translate into happiness.
Coral, peach, rose, bubblegum, flamingo, ballet-slipper, salmon, rouge, punch – all shades of pink.
Does every possible colour in the sky have a name? What is the lingering sunlight called? Are these names absolute or are they mere approximations? Do they do justice? Do we need to name every colour or can we leave some alone? Is there a colour of love? Wonder what its name is.
The longer I live, the more I remove all that is unnecessary, the more I see why I might have, knowingly or unknowingly made the choice to be here in the first place.
To be enthralled by the mysteries of life and death and the awesome ways in which our numerous programs, some within multiple others, work or don’t. To be in wonderment.
To see each day as the unveiling of yet another secret – the toothless smile of a four-week-old infant in response to me looking at him and speaking nonsense words with love in my eyes.
To experience each moment on this exceptionally spectacular planet, as a miracle not owed to me.
To appreciate the unfathomable source of the mathematical intelligence of golden ratios held within the ordinariness of a pine-cone, a pineapple and the head of a sunflower.
To listen with fascination using not just my ears but all my being.
To allow spontaneous, effortless, un-self-conscious expressions to flow.
To be surprised and amazed by the everydayness of extra-ordinary pieces of writing and music.
To be touched by simple kindnesses. To celebrate love and joy.
To be enthralled by rivers, skies, clouds and mountains.
To notice each of these gifts and marvel at them.
I wish you and me, a Wondrous New Year!
Please share your moments of wonder in the comments as often as you like. I have started noting them down in my calendar:
1st Jan 2025: My hands finished a new Mandala on the wall of a restaurant in Patnem (Goa) – completely unplanned.
2nd Jan 2025: My train from Goa to Sakleshpur arrived in time! I had to change my seat four times, but I had a fantastic journey. The train was delayed only by half an hour. A young man seated next to me on the train asked me if I was a writer. “Do I look like one?” I asked. He said, yes. “Is that a complement?” I asked. He said, yes. Made my day.
3rd Jan 2025: Wonder where the inspiration for this blog-post came from.
kidsaregifts 