The Feet and Shoe Thing

I saw her walking, stepping across the boulders on the hill. The MP3 player on her ears, locking out the world. She needs to get in the world now…how does one tell her? Have been waiting to talk to her forever, but she just hasn’t been listening. Of course, there are times that you have to play your little game of chess and move towards this pawn. And here she was – so predictable. Over the years, everyone seemed to have turned free will into a habit. Strange…but at least I knew where to find her.

A slight turn and in front….and she was near. “Hi there,” I said, she was wary, but polite- not the kind who really wants to be rude, replied cautiously, “Hello.” Then the familiarity caught up. We have met before, she knows it. So she smiles, to an old friend, then she whines, “Am kind of down you know, borderline depression.”

“Why?” I asked keeping a straight face – I think she likes being down, giving essential darkness, which is actually missing from her well-lit life.

“Don’t know – things have happened, moneywise and relationships, a certain lack of control in both,” she replied.

“Yawn,” I had to suppress it, how many people could you listen to with the same complain. Luckily she did not see the yawn, and went on, “I have no idea why I am telling you this, I seem to know you forever.”

I nodded my head and grinned, but what does one tell an atheist, that we have met before in stranger times, only she does not know. “You know I just find it so difficult to cope,” she added with a flash of tears for full measure.

The sun was setting prettily today, and I had to keep it on for a while longer, just to let her know. But she was not really interested.

“Why do you find it difficult to cope? So there are a few crazy things, perhaps even screwed up parents, and even loves that have slipped off – so what?”

But she was not listening, caught up in her own misery. Then I thought I’d give her the old shoe and feet routine. And I did…. “Look at this way, what is worse not having the shoe or not having the feet to wear it?” She had this incredulous look , “What does my life have to do with feet or the lack of it?”

Now whom do I blame for such lack of awareness. “What I mean is…” and then I knew once again it would some more time, “Look it’s not all that bad, look at closely.”

Then of course, she whined on again….the sunset could not be held for longer, and I let it sink. And moved on, I would always be there, but perhaps she needed to find herself a bit more. She saw the sun sink, moodily, and still unaware. One day… will wait for the day.

The square inch of space…

There are days that never seem to end, the demands of people, events…they are not essentially stressful, but take just too much of yourself. Much more than you are willing to give. As a writer, all I really want to do is sit in a wide open space and just write my stories. These are not for clients nor are they meant to be coming online, but stories that I want to tell, and hopefully they will have some meaning for someone else. But there is something else; I also want to make the money….and that overrides the need to write my stories. And to make money I have face up to the all that comes with it, only I meet them in my precious square inch of space.

As a children writer I am often asked. “Are these stories for your daughter?” Much as I love her, no, these stories are not written for her. They were actually written for no one. Perhaps they emerged from around, but written with nobody’s approval in mind. They were written because I had a story to tell. They were born from the square inch of space that I can claim to be my own….it has no real estate value…but I have begun guarding it zealously.

Everyday something happens in life….and these in the cosmic event have no meaning, yet they change you…and that change helped me find this little space. A space which is ready to surrender…to find more in life. And I have learnt to value that space within me…

The demands of people take large chunks of your life. Your boss, family, friends, clients believe that your functionality and purpose is to cater to these huge demands. The writer in me does a good job writing stuff which for me has no other value than earning money. The homemaker in me tries to keep things on an even keel. And you don’t have the luxury to wonder whether it is all worth it. Because this is the time to make the money, and you have this one talent that lets you do it.

Soul searching has no place in the daily grind of life….but it is always there. It is there in the fundamental square inch that no one else can enter. It also gives you certain sanity –yes, your talent in real terms may have been given for better things, but what you do is wholly justified. As a hack, I earn money for myself and family, and that helps in ensuring a decent quality of life. Do I like all the work I do, no, I am indifferent to it, it is difficult to get passionate about country clubs, and apartment buildings.

Most writers, I think, who are content or copywriters dream about their great novel. Very few of us actually write it. I think about it, but at least I don’t agonize over it….There is nothing to agonize about, because after all it’ll happen when it has to happen. And if it does not, then that is one less novel written. But I have a job to do, I do it well, and that itself is worth the journey.

That square inch of space that no one enters, it’s not fortress, it has no walls, yet it keeps me intact. And, yes I know I am worth just 5 pence in carbon, but that’s still worth something…

A little square inch of space puts so many things into a perspective….of course it is your own perspective. But it is valid and the only way you can really see things. That square inch of space is my faith in all things more beautiful and complete than me. It is truly inviolate, yet it allows me to go into crowded rooms, and create a sense of being quite happily alone and unhindered. It’s a space where I do realize that life is much than me…it is my retreat.