Alone

I often see women sitting alone, just staring off into the distance, and I wonder what they are doing, and what they are thinking? Are they waiting for something? For someone? Are they thinking deep thoughts, or simply sitting there with minds blank? It seems to be a western idea that we need entertainment at all times. We have games on our phones, movies on our ipods, a book or a newspaper if nothing else. Something to distract our minds from the fact that we are alone and waiting.

Why are we afraid of being alone with our thoughts? Of having a chance to clear our heads? No talking, nothing to listen to, nothing to read. Not even a piece of paper and a pen to capture the thoughts that we have. Just silence.

How much more would we notice if we allowed ourselves to do such things? The smells of the flowers around us, the song of the birds. For me it is sometimes just hearing the sounds of Hindi and Tamil around me. Melodious sounds despite the fact I mostly do not know what they mean.

I find myself in a fine state if I end up having a wait that I have not planned for. If I think I will only be a few minutes, and it winds up being an hour, I’m not entirely sure what to do. I am very good at amusing myself, but I do that by reading or writing while I am waiting.

I used to look at people who could sit there contentedly, staring off into space, and think that perhaps they were lacking in mental faculties. But perhaps they are able to simply enjoy life without distractions. It’s something that most of us could probably use a huge dose of.

The Contents of a Little Girl’s Purse

What is it that you would find if you were to look through a little girl’s purse? Odds and ends, knick knacks that no one wanted, bits that were set to the side, unneeded and unnoticed until she came upon them. Many would call it rubbish; a veritable crow’s nest of the things that no one else wants.

 But what is it all to her? Every piece in that purse is a treasure. If you bother to sit and listen, you can hear why each things she has picked up is special to her. Yes, maybe the story will change each time, but she will take great joy in telling you all about it.
When we grow up, our purses are full of the things we “need”. This of course changes with each person’s opinion of what they need. One woman may have a purse full of make-up, a mirror, a pack of mints, the things she needs for keeping up her appearances. Another may have a book, a notebook, and a pen. Something to keep her busy if she grows bored. Who knows what one will have. But a little girl’s purse has no “theme” to it. It is a jumble of all of the things she holds dear. An echo of a heart and a mind that have not found their place in the world yet. An individual not worried about what others will think of her.

Would that we all could keep such openness in our lives. Not necessarily to the point where we collect things like magpies. But to the point where we have in our lives the things which we fancy, rather than the things we are supposed to fancy.