☼ 21 Speaking of ... one step at a moment (and other interpretations of taking the time)

We agreed in the car that we would warn the third that if either of us started crying to just carry on – just a 'that time of (a crappy) year' type of cry. We'd both thought about canceling, but this is the kind of place you can burst into tears in without too much fuss. It's that place I told you about last year? Or the year before? Where you meet strange people suddenly in hallways, some of them take up residence in one of the many rooms around the house. Well they've moved to a new house now but we still see the same type of strangers coming out of rooms, wandering into the kitchen, fixing cars in the garage.

There's always a lot of comfort food and a cup of tea with a tiny jug for milk. But this time amongst it all were 3 miniature hour glasses, each tied with a different coloured ribbon which had been curled at the ends. I picked the gold one. And we were instructed by M that she saw these and thought of the three of us. And that we each had to think of something to say about these hourglasses.

M went first. She held her mini hour glass and said don't think the little bits of time don't matter – in a good way the small chunks of time you can put into a project or skill add up and build toward something that is greater then the sum of its parts.

I googled mine and came up with something long and not exactly appropriate that didn't really have that much to do with the hourglass in front of me. But we agreed it was a starting point and had something to do with the act of having to turn the hourglass over :-)

N delayed until we were starting to pack up. Then she came back from the bathroom and said, ok, I've got mine. This past year has been particularly rough for her but she seems to have bested it so far. She has been writing when she can, hoping to put together a book. She held her hourglass and said, this hourglass is a clock, it is simple, but it is still a clock. I aim to write a book, regardless of what happens if it gets published or not, if I finish it and even if I have to self-publish it, it is still a book.

From ※●⁂

● 20 Speaking of ... magic

I first met my acupuncturist this summer. It was almost a whole year after I first heard of her from my friend, O. From his stories, the picture in my head was a hefty assistant nurse type of woman, in hospital jumpers. Imagine my surprice, when I'm greeted by a tiny tiny bird-like little lady, always in perfectly ironed flower-printed blouses, and cherry lipstick. A little like a small voiced Edith Piaf.

She's a tiny lady, but with a full-grown self-asteem. Her first words were "finally you are here, so that I can fix you!" Comforting and truly annoying at the same time. The next sentence was, "it will take some time, but we take it one step at a moment", in her own very peculiar swenglish. I don't know why, but she likes finishing of her little wisdoms with personalised english sayings. Very cute.

It takes some time getting used to her views and ways, but after knowing her a few months, I can honestly say she reformed me completely.

I wonder what it is she sees, that the rest of us don't.

☼19 Speaking of ... real or not here they come!

I first noticed her legs, bone thin, she walks awkwardly as if on stilts. They were ahead of me in the queue at the local library checking out some books. A couple, both so old, yet the man is young enough that he's her son. And still he is so old that A thinks his son should be there too, to take care of him!

Months later I see them in the city! It's not far, but not a trip many take if old and not so well. They walk arm in arm, he's very careful of her, taking tiny steps to match hers, crowds rush around them back and forth. There's lots of flowing, silver hair, long for each of them, with a beard for the son. Their clothes are glossy too, well-kept 1970's polyester all over. It's hard to tell you more about what they look like even though I've seen them a few times since. I don't know if it's the flowing hair, the slowness of them both that turns them sort of ghostly. I glance around to see whether others are seeing them too, then look back and they're still there, calmly making their way through the crowds. But you only see them for a second before you can't help but just see time, passing and family, relationships, and then you have to turn away even though they're fascinating because these things are tough to be up this close to.

● 18 Speaking of ... Exactly what you wanted to hear. Again.

Today I had dental surgery to remove a wisdom tooth. I’ve been dreading it, and was rather shaky as I sat in the chair. The dentist pushed four shots of anaesthesia to my lower jaw and chin, and the jaw and tongue was starting to have that tingling sensation as it dozed off.

I brought my headphones and plugged them in to try to shut the drilling and cracking sounds out. Lucky, lucky me, the appointment was in the afternoon, and P3 Christer was playing! I zoomed out, and it really felt like Morgan and Christer, the two hosts, were sitting on each side of me just stroking my hands, making me feel at ease. Within minutes, they had turned my fidgeting to this surreal feeling of enjoyment, as I found myself giggling at the stories other listeners called in. The dentist was busy splitting my tooth in half and stretching the corner of my mouth so far it felt he was going to button it behind my ear. I could see the whole scene as a Japanese manga story board as my face was pulled in all directions like a rubber mask… And after only one hour, the stitches were made, shaving a whole half hour of the estimated time. Yay! I hope that the next days of healing will go as easy. I guess I’ll keep the radio running.

☼17 Speaking of ... Exactly what you wanted to hear.

I've been thinking for awhile about what comes of making things public – facebook ... marriage ... other stuff. So I was a bit excited when at a wedding not so long ago a stranger came up to me out of the blue and started talking to me about pretty much exactly this.

Not sure how it started - but at a wedding, being unmarried but attached it's a short, obvious route to the 'why aren't you married' discussion which I try to turn into the 'why are you married' discussion, because it's only ever married people that ask. The man, a sailor, hesitantly told me of what happens to love over the course of a long marriage. He was hesitant like you might be uncertain if you should tell a small child their first ghost story. Eventually he told me, though only if I promised to keep it between me, him and this ocean that we were standing next to outside the restaurant that night. Anyway, it was something he talked about with a great sense of loss, but even so, he was still passionate enough about the importance of the public declaration of love through marriage that he offered his house for us to have a wedding barbecue at :-) and he talked on and on about how wonderful it was that the bride and groom were declaring their love in front of everyone.

We argued for ages over why people should do the public ceremony and as he talked, I remembered this stuff I'd been reading about, all that ask the universe stuff and it will deliver, so I was pretty excited that I'd been thinking really, really hard about this idea and then suddenly late one night, a stranger would start talking to me about exactly this. I kept thinking, 'Holy crap it's working! I asked and I'm about to get the answer!' And then it was over, we had to go back to our tables for dessert. I was still so excited that it was only days later when I sit down to tell you that I realise he'd never really answered why making public declarations was important, he'd just said that they were important ... shitballs.