I have endlessly wondered about the future my entire life. I’d walk a particular way over the steam railway through our peculiar village and always let my imagination consider the same speculations. Maybe it was the norm of that particular route, triggering same fascinations. Wondering what was to happen. Depending on a positive or negative mindset, the daydreams would lead my naive mind to various outcomes. The obvious of change to our ever evolving era, but how this change unfolds to effect individual souls. What is in it for us? What have our fates in store? Anticipatory anxiety: The fear and procrastination of future paths.
I would constantly anticipate my cards, waiting all my life for a particular moment that hadn’t arrived yet. All that time I’d been waiting, fantasizing. I suddenly realize this is exactly what I’d been waiting for. Lo and behold; it wasn’t a nuclear bomb, my family haven’t died in a horrendous accident, I haven’t become president and I am certainly infertile. It seems to have been pure contentment and happiness all along.
I’ve been away with the fairies my entire life. Quite literally when you see my Mother and her friends. I’d romanticize the future, imagine a perfect portrait ignorant of reality. This happening, whatever it was, was certainly going to be dramatic. The butterfly effect; a situation where to save my friends, I’d have to have never been born (or something equally as ridiculous). When honestly reader, there would be no need to muse my future. My present has turned out to be utterly perfect.
Everyday I shall wake, load the cafetiere with betty’s fine coffee, make Noah his breakfast and clean our beautiful, imperfect kitchen. I genuinely look forward to my mornings. Somehow whatever goddess decided I was to be his Mother, my other halfs lover, I have been blessed with waking to their faces each morning. To tend to them, make them smile and spend my life reminding them quite how utterly impeccable they are. I tell them as much as I possibly can, but it will never be enough. How they have saved me from my unpredictability and unfulfillment of my own being. I was never enough. By simply being , they have allowed me to enjoy, appreciate and accept the purest, absolute artistry of this earth. They have educated me by their mere existence of the enjoyment of purity, my first morning coffee, the assignments I hate to write, the ink I have on my body, the blue oceans that concoct my two unworldly creature’s eyes. All of it has become unbearably graceful in my perception.
I’ll smother my cub in kisses and dress him for an hectic day at his child minders of being extravagantly creative. I may make myself a smoothie but always save a glass for my baby. I’ll have to rewipe his berry covered smile before we leave. I always forget to brush his teeth, so to run back upstairs quickly finishing this morning routine by singing the teeth brushing song. My love will drop him off but only after a dozen delighted screeched ‘I love you Mummy’s before driving away.
Lately I’ve spent my time studying on my ledge for a bed away from the world. Fairy lights, nipping for cigarettes and coffee and watching the spring sunshine creep in through the wide open window. My consciousness may wander with brushes of inspiration and excitement of potential projects but I manage to hinge my attention back to the list that needs accomplishing.
I have two cats that tolerate either ones company in order to indulge in mine. Tyler the all black schizophrenic with huge eyes, largely resembling toothless from ‘How to train your Dragon’, and Evie the bumbling queen with rosa pink jelly beans for paws matching a tiny snout and magnificent grassy observant eyes.
I make the bed before perching, surrounded by my books and notes. This environment is safe, positive and for happiness only. Therefore the studying that takes place follows this same pattern. I may not shower till midday, I may change into fresh comfys. I will always lather and scrub my skin, floss my teeth and moisturize, I will not apply makeup, I shall take my time to massage bio oil into my ‘imperfections’. I might use my breaks to work out money making tactics from home as my days are for studying and my nights for my love and life.
These days are positive, productive and safe. These times have allowed me to love the reality of myself, not to romanticize, but to appreciate the enchantment of my personal ordinary.
He will be out or in the attic. Occasionally I hear him take a break himself and sing to a guitar. I hum along in my own space. He loves the truth of me. I worship the absoluteness of him. He is my best friend, my partner, my lover and Noah’s perfect influence.
These days are simple, honest. They are the unknown daydreams I have craved. They are my soulful reward for survival. In the endless quarrels I have endured with my physce, the disagreements of not having the conscious ability to no longer punish for the past. To teach myself the beauty of enjoyment and love. My reality is no longer glamorized, it is simply wonderful.
Mother, Lover, Believer.