“Hi. I am Dr SM. I will be anaesthetising you for your procedure today. Could I ask you to please remove your mask so I can take a quick look at your teeth and airway? Thank you.”
My guess of how their whole face looks is often completely off the mark. They look more beautiful than I imagine especially if they remember to wear their smiles. I have missed smiles exchanged with random strangers walking around random shops and street corners. I have missed hugs from friends even more.
Countless nuclear fissions on the surface of the sun translate into radiation that hits the Earth’s atmosphere and creates an electro-magnetic field, some of which converts to heat and light. The green plants picks it up along with CO2 and through photosynthesis convert the sun’s energy to carbohydrates, proteins and fats. Our food takes these to the mitochondria in our cells. These little power-houses create fuel, energy and warmth through the process of cell-respiration. This solar event carries on within us at a molecular level.
Two of the best things about being human are, smiles and hugs. They bring us into the sunshine of another human being. We are beings of light. Our design makes us heal spontaneously when our energy is high. The two things that deeply damage human energy are – fear and guilt, both of which have been ramped up in myopic and manipulative ways.
This is the time for us to find each other and our state of harmony. To know that we are alive right now and sing it out loud. The present humanity is an unfinished symphony and I feel some of the best bits are yet to be created.
“We have travelled past the longest night.
Now treading into the return of light.
In the stillness of mid-winter, may we dream into existence a magical new world,
most kind and bright.”
Wishing you, me and humanity, many songs, smiles and hugs. xxx
This video was made after a spate of suicides by senior NFL players in the USA as they were starting to feel the effects of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE). Michael Irvin spoke from the heart without a script and his truth is visible.
If your isolation is getting the better of you, know that you are not alone. You are loved, silently. Reach out your hand and they will be there.
Last Thursday night I had to think about what to wear as I was going out. Proper going out – to a gig at a small venue in Tower Bridge. Hugo, one of Saagar’s closest friends from school had released a single in his memory and was performing live and raising funds for Papyrus. I would be seeing our friends, have a drink and possibly dinner at a restaurant. Wow! About time. It’s been ages.
Took a train to London Bridge and as I was walking out of the station, 2 announcements came on in quick succession –
“The 1831 to Peterborough has been cancelled due to a person being hit be a train.”
“The 1830 to Horsham has been cancelled due to a person being hit by a train.”
That Thursday was back again. It was Day 0 again. At this very station, an announcement was made to say my train home had been cancelled. I found an alternative route without thinking once why my train was cancelled.
It is spreading. Despite everything we do. It keeps happening. This morning I woke up to talk of another lock-down and my heart sank. I have an income and a home and someone to share my life with. How many don’t? I have hope and optimism. How many don’t? How many other hearts sank this morning?
The prospect of going on living in a world without a warm touch or hugs or smiles is nothing less than a punishment. The morning is greyer and colder than it has been in a long time. The days are shrinking. I am reminded of 6 years ago, at this time of the year, as autumn was fast approaching and Saagar was ill, I was optimistic. I didn’t have the slightest doubt. I knew he would get better.
Now, I doubt my optimism.
PS: Please listen to this song and share it on: “Lay down” by Hugo Hartley on Spotify
She lives in sheltered accommodation. As an octogenarian, it is safer. Her sons think so. When she moved in, she had hoped for some company. She likes a bit of chit-chat. She enjoys people. But she is fairly content. Every other day she neatly pins her hair up, wears one of her long skirts with a woolly jumper, wraps herself up in her sea-green duffle coat, puts on a smile and walks to the high street.
Betsy goes to the post-office to buy and post a card for her grand daughter’s birthday. She picks one with flowers and butterflies and queues. The only other person in the queue is a young woman. She has big black cordless head-phones with a ‘b’ in red covering her ears. She also has a vacant look in her eyes. It seems she is elsewhere. No chance of a chat here. When Betsy arrives at the window, the teller appears to be preoccupied. He is worried that the Post office might have to close down soon. He’s not sure how soon. That worries her. Last year her bank had shut down the branch on this high street.
She used to be able to go to the GP Surgery on days she felt a bit off. In the waiting area she often ran into someone she knew. It was good. But now the rules have changed. There are screens with smiley pictures and buttons. Appointments have to be made weeks in advance. One can’t just show up. Now, she feels like an outsider at her own surgery. She doesn’t like to go there anymore.
The grocery store is always a good place for a chat. The staff are friendly. Sometimes she even runs into familiar faces. She strolls around at her own pace and picks up a pint of milk and a pack of 80 PG tips teabags. As she approaches her favourite part, the check out desk, she is ushered in a perfunctory manner towards three ugly self check-out machines. That confuses her. She is not sure what to do.
It’s been one week since she spoke to anyone. On TV they said that the population of the world is the highest ever and rising – 7.4 billion! That must have lots of zeros.