Blank pages

Writers know it best that it is always difficult to face a brand new blank page. It is imbued with so much potential that it is sometimes frightening. Because you fear you may not live up to the expectation that lies within that blank page. You fear what you will write will not be good enough. But you will never know unless you try. Unless you write that first word and let everything else just flow onto the page.

Just like that, in life too, we need to be bold enough to take risks, to make new decisions, to change things. We will never be able to reach our true potential if we are too afraid to change even the slightest in our routines, to make new opportunities a reality. It is only when we exit our comfort zones that great things will come. And we will realise what we are truly capable of.

Just hours away from a new year, perhaps this is the time for reflection – of how the 365 days that passed were filled with moments of happiness, laughter, love, excitement, new experiences, but also of remorse, sadness, of wanting to painfully creep under something and disappear. This is the time to fill ourselves with determination and hope to make the New Year the best one yet. To make it the one that will improve our lives and of those around us. To eliminate as much as possible those bad moments that overshadow all the good and be decisive enough to make those moments to come ones branded only by smiles, laughter and happiness.

Make this start one worthy of who you are and the goodness that lies within you.

Happy New Year everyone!

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Almost

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The showdancer’s new dress

Now that she had reached the top of her profession, the renowned showdancer was able to laugh at the reminder of her most embarrassing and agonising moment in her career. “It was during a royal Christmas ball,” she confessed. “I was astounded by the luxury of the ballroom, the immensity of the hall, the gold, the silver, every carefully placed ornament”. “I remember my jaw dropped open at the mere sight of it all”. “One of my co-dancers nudged me to say that she would organise the showdresses in a wardrobe ‘upstairs’. I didn’t know where that was but I entrusted her with the dress. I was gobsmacked with where we had come. But then the real show began. Because as soon as the light dimmed, the host announced that a ‘dance programme like no other worldwide’ would appear before the guests’ eyes. I was trembling with excitement. I suddenly flinched and realised I had very little time to get dressed. But where on earth had the girl placed the dresses?”

“With just a few minutes away from the show, I couldn’t for the life of me find neither my co-dancer, nor the dresses. Everyone else was getting ready, but no-one had seen the girl who had taken charge of my dress. I was the lead in this seasonal dance-story. There was no way I could not appear. And I needed that dress. I raced up and down the ballroom, in and out of the changing rooms, and as I saw that all the other dancers were almost ready, I panicked all the more. Suddenly, I found myself on another huge princely-like staircase with a red carpet neatly laid on every step. I sprinted up (or down, I can’t recall) and sprang into what appeared to be the world’s most elegant and spacious cloakroom. But I was not alone”.

“In the middle, on top of a square pouf sat a man, slim-figured with grey hair and a corresponding goatee, with a measuring tape hanging from around his neck. A royal tailor, I wondered. I had most probably looked pale from agony and fear. He was the exact opposite: restrained and composed. He got up and calmly walked towards me. ‘Are we looking for something in particular?’ he asked with a voice that emanated tranquillity. A recount of what had happened raced out of my mouth as he watched me unfazed. He then turned around and headed towards a tall wooden cupboard, he opened one door-flap – I couldn’t see what was inside – and pulled out the most beautiful pink showdress I had ever seen. It seemed custom-made for the exact role I was to play that night. He helped me put it on and I was so excited and panicking at the same time that I was not embarrassed that a strange man was helping me dress. I ran out of the room and – I still don’t know how – managed to get on stage at exactly the right moment. What is more, I remembered every single step I needed and gave the best performance of my career. It was the one that sky-rocketed me to the top; the one that filled me with confidence and made me believe that I was destined for more”.

“The funniest and even stranger thing that happened that night was that the girl and the costumes appeared as we were packing everything to leave after the performance. She asked me where I was hidden, as she was searching for me all night”.

Some things come into our life inexplicably, but always at the right moment. We simply have to be open enough and prepared to go with the flow of what life throws our way.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Confess

 

An irresistible odour

As soon as he opened the door, it filled his nostrils. That sweet, delicious smell of homemade cookies. Christmas cookies. It was an odour that could soothe even the most anxious and aggravated of souls. He didn’t require soothing. He rejoiced in that some things in his life were the way he wanted them to be; at least most of the time.

Baking, or cooking, they say is an art. But the secret ingredient to every meal, dish or sweet is something that is not written in any recipe. It is the feelings you put into whatever it is you’re making. This is what makes your food simply irresistible (there is a relevant movie about this!).

Just like everything in life, we create through the emotions that build up inside us. We often also bring our own destruction by holding too many things inside. But we need to keep finding ways to turn those intense feelings into something creative. Something that will be enjoyed by all and will ultimately make us feel better.

This is what he wanted when he insisted so much on baking the cookies. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year”, he stated, and this meant doing fun things with the people you love. It was not a time for bickering, but one for laughter and joy. Isn’t that the point of it all anyway? To feel loved and be happy?

 

Happy Holidays!

 

Heart-warming gift giving

They say it’s not the gift, but the thought that counts. The thought that you placed someone above your own needs and considered to do something for them; something that will make them smile and feel loved. Indeed, it is true that “the manner of giving is worth more than the gift”, because as you mature, you realise that what matters most is being thought of.

There is perhaps no greatest gift than to know that you are in someone’s mind and heart. It makes you feel special and gives you the confidence you need to walk ahead in life stronger and determined.

Mother Theresa said that “it’s not how much we give, but how much love we put into giving”, while Francis of Assisi had noted that “it is in giving that we receive”.

So remember this holiday season, “the greatest gifts are nor wrapped in paper, but in love”. And that is what counts the most.

Blissful

“Beauty is whatever gives joy” (Edna St. Vincent Millay). And what is joy? It “is a net of love with which you can catch souls” (Mother Theresa); “it is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognise how good things really are” (Marianne Williamson).

Sometimes – too often – we allow ourselves to be carried away by our anxiety, stress, anguish and worry to truly see all the things we should be grateful for. Our good health, our homes, the loving people around us.

There comes a moment when you feel you are drowning in engagement, in evergrowing “to-do-lists”, in increasing obligations that you persuade yourself to believe that something is wrong. But if we just stop, take a deep breath and look around, we see that there is a different perspective to life. One that is calmer, brighter, and a little more blissful.

Sometimes it takes a surprise, a gift, an escape journey to make you see it.

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls” (Joseph Campbell).

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Bliss

Light up, light up

©Sandra Crook

In daytime, it seemed like a simple street lamp with its metallic surroundings and a white exterior. It was nothing special. At least that was what the majority of passers-by thought.

But one little girl believed differently. She saw in that lamppost a fairy tale. The first time she saw it, she said it reminded her of her father’s bedtime stories.

When night came, the lamp turned on; but in different colours. And when the first snowflake fell, the lamp turned itself into a lit-up snowball encasing Santa’s house.

Magic was there. You just had to want to see it.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The Elegance of Grace

She grew up in a bedroom that was as big as some apartments she later saw during her rent-hunting period. She had always thought that was the norm. That all children were brought up in loving families that looked after their every need and sacrificed (themselves) for their own welfare. Finding out the truth hurt.

Elegance, her mother had always told Grace, was something that you learnt to impose on yourself to the extent that it came out as natural. It was like the pain a dancer felt, but to the audience it seemed like blissful gliding. That was the essence of elegance. To appear to have everything under control, without worries, stress or agony. It was not easy.

As she grew up, Grace lost her temper a lot. She was often nervous, allowing her agitation and fear to overcome her. Uncertainty did not fare well with her. She wanted things to be organised so that she could feel that she had the ability to impose some order in the chaos around her. But that wasn’t always possible.

It was only when she returned to ballet that she remembered. It reminded her that not everything had to be forced. Some things needed calm and patience to work out well and everything took time. It all fell into place at the right moment with the proper strain. The elegance was knowing how to acknowledge that and be prepared for when that moment arrived.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Elegance

Squashing an irritating bug

Here it is. To some it seems small and minute. Of minimal importance. But to those who pay attention to everything, it is severe. It is conspicuous enough to annoy you. And it constantly appears when it least should.

It is that black bug that taints your pristine white clothes.

That annoying third person in a perfect couple’s relationship.

The loose screw that causes everything to fall apart.

That hail that ruins your happy mood.

It is constantly there. Looming like a cloud full of rain, ready to overshadow your sunshine.

Sometimes, however, it is not enough for you to act alone to fix it. Sometimes you need the support to squash it. To make everything right again.

Because we are in this world alone, but a helping hand is always welcome.

The thrill of a parcel

There is something inexplicably intriguing with finding a parcel in the post addressed to you. Even if you know what is in it and you’re expecting it, you’re always filled with excitement at the mere sight of it. But when it comes as a surprise, a flood of enthusiasm fills your inside.

Tina found the parcel around noon. She had just returned from work and was looking forward to lying on the couch for the next couple of hours doing nothing, perhaps even dozing off a little. It was a medium-sized brown box. It could contain pretty much anything. But what was in it? And who was it from?

Tina examined it from all sides, but she couldn’t find an answer.

She took it into her flat and began to investigate how she could open it the fastest without causing too much damage to it. She took a scissors and ripped the packing tape holding the two box sides together. Inside was another package. This time in the form of a black-and-white paper envelope. She ripped it open to find a pair of purple woollen mittens.

Tina could barely contain her delight. Mittens for her meant one thing: snow. And as a December child, she loved this delicate white blanket that made everything seem all so magical.

In between the mittens was a small handwritten festive card. Tina read it and began to jump up and down with exhilaration. It was clear whom it was from and she couldn’t wait.

The card said, “are you ready!?”