The lives we don’t see

©Dale Rogerson

No person has the same fingerprints or iris identifications. There is a reason for it. Each person is unique.

Consequently, each person is living a life that is often unbeknown to most; and is essentially very different to what appearances may suggest. Each is juggling their own life lemons, trying to get the most out of them.

Some medics, for example, work more hours than they even remember for a pay that is lower than a private parking meter.

Similarly, musicians are those starving artists keeping us company in the months-long lockdowns during a pandemic – one which medics are fighting.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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The original painting

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

When we were kids at school, we would indulge in painting with watercolours. The more colourful our drawing would be, the better, and the happier it made us.

As kids, we would have the same palette of colours, but each one would produce a unique creation.

As grown-ups, we try to copy each other down to every minute detail. Jealousy has become a spiteful characteristic of adults, fighting over who will show they were first in doing something, regardless if they know the truth.

The original is always better than the copy, though, and it is evident which is which.

“You have your brush, you have your colours, you paint the paradise, then in you go” – Nikos Kazantzakis

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Searching for allies in our head

It was a cold, winter day with north winds howling through the window. The cold crept indoors, no matter how tightly shut the airways were.

He was moaning about how freezing it was even inside.

She had her mind elsewhere to pay too much attention. It was just the start of winter; more cold would surely follow.

Each person has random things hovering inside their mind. Things that grasp their attention at times when they should be focused on something or someone else. But we don’t know about them unless they are shared with us. Unless that someone else lets us into their mind, and on condition that we are empathetic enough to understand how and why whatever the problem is, is causing so much concern to the person next to us.

We are all different. It is inevitably so. And as such, we don’t all view the world in the same way. Problems we see as “end of the world”-type disasters, to someone else may be negligible mishaps. It is difficult to find people who share our point of view, our perspective, let alone our values. The meaning of “important” is not the same for everyone. That is why it is often challenging to explain what it is that is draining our energy and our mental health.

And that is why people often choose to bury themselves in a shell, rather than speak out. Because it is easier to shy away than try to make others understand.

He left, once again, as he always did when he couldn’t – or didn’t want to – understand her.

Just an hour later, the central heating in the building was turned on, presenting a strong ally against the cold.

Another’s vocation

©Roger Bultot

When you sit in a doctor’s chair, do you ever wonder what it’s like to be the one carrying out the patient examination?

When you pass through an architectural marvel, do you ponder about the person who had the idea and ability to create it?

When you read a book or see a film, do you admire the pen that wrote it?

Do you ever find yourself thinking of what it is like to be in another person’s shoes? To have another’s vocation or calling?

Every person is gifted, but some never open their package to find out their talent.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Something special within the season

©MCD

He realised something was happening when the bright seasonal decorations began to appear, first on the main door, then the lights on the window. Suddenly the night appeared to light up. There was colour pouring out of every corner of the building.

The snow made it evident winter had come. But that too was part of the season. You had to feel it was winter.

He didn’t care it was this cold. He was used to it anyway. It was freezing when he arrived a year ago. One year had already past. And now he was ready to celebrate a birthday. One that happened to coincide with the most wonderful time of the year.

He disliked the fact that people bypassed his own celebrations and he had to deal with the fact that every one was celebrating these days. He wanted to feel special. To have a day devoted to him. To have a day that was his very own.

Those who cared would make it so.

After all that is what family and friends are for.

Even if you are simply a kitten.

You still deserve to have something unique, especially for you.