So here were are again. Christmas Eve is come with all its magic and excitement. Everyone is buzzing with anticipation, everything last minute is right now.
I shall be cleaning windows. Well, we got the house in the shippest of shapes with a home-made tree, fashioned from a cat climbing frame with bits of wood attached for branches. Bells and balls and gold sprayed African seeds (big enough to crack your skull should one choose to land upon it) and little lights that think me of fireflies. All surfaces thoroughly shined up, all rubble wheeched away into a bedroom, and candles at the ready on the dining table. And, then, we noticed the windows, which definitely flagged behind the rest. Not the same standard at all. We could just make out the kitten’s face through the grub but not much more. I am equipped with Mr Windows, or whatever they call it out here, and various cloths, with a squirl of newspaper for the final touch. Actually, there are loads of the flipping things, windows I mean, including two of the french variety so I’ll be tied up awhile.
I didn’t plan to write about windows, but having done so, they are loitering in my head. Windows are how we look out, and how we look in. What do we see as we look? Do we see the grub or do we see the face of a little kitten? Do we see rain and slush looking out, or do we see the chance for a jump or two in a muddy puddle? From outside, do we see things we haven’t done, should have done, wished we could do, or do we rest out eyes on a warm inviting comfortable room?
This has everything to do with choice, and with thankfulness. As the eye hits the glass, there is a choice, always a choice. Such a way of thinking is a decision, even if the sofa is old and torn and not all that comfortable, because at least it is there. And, yes, it might be cold outside, but looking at it won’t alter a thing. Choosing to see something in a positive way might sound like hard work, and, it can be, at the beginning. But, surprisingly soon, I can look that way, by choosing the how-I-see thingy, at absolutely everything, and everyone. It is deliciously freeing, even if it does evoke a derisive snort or two from those who refuse to choose, thinking instead that life is a dull sort of process and that it always rains and that the world is in a right state of collapse already.
Well I choose to see the sparkle in whatever and whoever I meet. There may be some twinkly-winkly lights in my DNA, but I still have to make a point of deciding the state of my heart, as an adult living in the same world as everyone else. And, I am so very thankful to have met, through this blog, through those who have read my book, a band of loonies who also choose to see the world through sparkly windows.
Thank you all. Keep choosing……..every single moment, no matter what happens, or doesn’t happen. Keep seeing fairies in the trees and lights in a stranger’s eyes, particularly the grumpy ones. They need our magic, in order to find their own.
Have a wonderful, magical, twinkly-winkly, thankful Christmas, wherever you are, my lovely friends. And keep dreaming………..
‘A person is not old, until their regrets take the place of their dreams.’ Anon