A Little Story.
On Days Like This.
Where should I put it.
That little bit of magic.
To turn it into something useful?
Where would you put it?
If you knew you couldn’t fail.
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Some days I wake early
Wake slowly.
And I don’t feel the desire.
Some days I don’t feel the push or the pull.
The challenge or the goal.
Some days I find I move slowly, or if not slowly then slower. Some days it feels lovely, feels nice, ‘steady away’. Some days it feels easy, like a day of in-between. A day that is cushioned…soft….Like a day I won’t remember.
Some days.
But on others.
On days like this.
Well they can be different.
On days like this I wake and I feel it. From the moment I open my eyes I know that it’s there.
Instantaneously.
I wake and I know.
That feeling, the little spark, the extra heat in my bones – is the promise of a flame.
On days like this I rise, turn off the alarm that I did not need and take myself and my feeling to the bathroom.
Go about my business and smile to myself:
‘Today is one of those days…today is one of those days… today…’
I move to the kitchen and pause in the hallway to check on the kid and my feeling. Make sure she is sleeping and my feeling is awake.
In the kitchen I put on the kettle. The floor is cold, but there is warmth inside of me so I shuffle my feet and I don’t complain.
Instead I do a little ‘kettle’ dance; a little 1,2, step, as I wait for the boil. I feel alive, energised, energetic.
I am a woman with a purpose – but what is my mission?
I’m taking control of myself, my day, my morning coffee. I pour the water, add the milk and Stir. The ‘tink tink tink’ of the spoon against the mug is satisfying. I add a touch of sugar and another little dance just for the heck of it.
On days like this I know it’s going to be a great. On days like this those sparks are flying; pure action.
That little bit of magic.
On days like this I can feel it.
I move and wake the kid and I know. I offer cuddles and love and I know. School uniforms, Disney sing-alongs with breakfast. I know.
It’s 8am.
Capoeira over the eggs and toast, hot chocolate on the side…it is clear that I know.
On days like this.
The not unusual, uncommon or unexpected days.
I start as I mean to go on. I pray that I am doing it right, putting her ‘out-there,’ putting myself to good use.
On days like this I wake and I know.
Today it will matter.
That little bit of magic.
A day I will remember.
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On days like this I do not meander nor stroll, but bounce and weave, duck and dive, roll with the punches. I Play with the day, kneed it and mould, form a little ball and hit it right out of the park.
On days like this I am consumed, there is a buzzing inside of me. Not painful nor unwelcome, not uncomfortable but electrifying.
But where do I put it?
Put her?
Put myself?
That fire inside of me?
That little bit of magic.
On days like this?
It is Tuesday afternoon not a Saturday night, not the time for late-night debauchery and weekend fiascos. It is mid-week and damp and here I am buzzing.
And people they notice when I move and swerve, when I talk too fast, stare too much or say the direct. People they notice when you are not slow and when you are fast but not stressed. When you pull them along and into your flow. Sometimes they like it and sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes they’ll need it and sometimes they won’t. Those are the times they want to go slow, wish you would go away because it is Tuesday and damp and there are jobs to be done.
On days like this:
If I were a singer I would sing at the top of my lungs.
If I were an athlete I would run or jump or kick.
If I were a painter I would paint.
Or a sculptor who sculpted then I would sculpt.
If I were a Minister I would preach and praise and rejoice.
If I were a dancer I would spin.
Or a musician, I would compose and play and fill.
But I am just me so what can I do?
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday…
The collision of the week against my skin. I have no choice but to embrace it.
As a mamma; I mother, with love of evangelical fervour. As a partner I listen, I play. Make the love and make an effort. For my body I train; half-marathons before breakfast and rowing machines for lunch. I take to the mountains, past lochs, through forests.
At work so I manage; communicate, listen, ‘I appreciate you, let’s take it a little further.’ I log, I type, I sort. Navigate the admin and thank my lucky stars.
As a home-maker – I make. Hoover, wash and fold… I cook, bake and feed. Help to bring the jokes and listen to theirs.
On days like this I go for it punching above my weight and way beyond theirs.
Friday, Saturday, Sunday…
I am exuberant!
On days like this.
The not unusual, uncommon or unexpected days.
Days like this which are so often my days. I am strong, I am inspired.
On days like this I believe.
In Her.
And Him.
In You.
In myself.
And my feeling.
The explosion and the light.
The push and the pull.
The placing and the waiting.
To see where I can put it.
On days like this I could make it, take my spark, create a difference.
On days like this I could set the world on fire.
On days like this there is magic.
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So I ask you where do you put it?
The promise of the day?
The spark inside of you?
If you know you make a difference?
How do you know you are right?
On days like this.
How do you know how?
Woman in Conversation 