The beauty of ‘little things’.

Little things. The term means something different to everyone. It could mean that a cup of tea, lovingly prepared by your Mother, is sat steaming and waiting for you on the kitchen counter as you walk through the door. It could mean that your Father checks the brake pads, or the oil of your Volkswagen Polo that sits perched, ready and eager on the drive. It could mean that your sister sneaks into your room and moves every single item that you own into an unfamiliar place, just because she wants you to know that she’s around. And, trust me, an upturned moisturiser or an ESSIE nail colour placed randomly under your pillow is something that I am very much used to. But, no matter your definition of ‘little things’, no matter how you define these in your own life, these gestures will always signify one thing, and that is love.

Take time to notice these little things. Our lives are full with things that don’t really matter, or have no real significance to how we grow as people, how our families function or how our friends become an eternal part of our lives. We tend to cram every insignificant, meaningless thing into our lives to distract us from what’s happening right now and in this very moment. The true, great and meaningful things that are there, but we never notice, are evicted from our headspace when we focus on human toxicity, when we focus on political-correctness, when we focus on the pain of the past or the shoe-string hope that is the future. We can never guarantee tomorrow, so why live stuck in the past, why live in a future that isn’t promised? It’s partly because we overlook the little things, that really, aren’t little, but are colossal pieces of our lives that build us up into who we are in the present moment.

When we choose to ignore the good things that are right in front of us, the things that are so suffused with love you can barely breathe, we are no longer on a trajectory of happiness. We are on a trajectory that is doomed to fail. It will poison the mind, blacken your heart and sour the soul. Focus on the things that matter, like the extra “I love you” your Mother cries out to you as you walk out of the door to work, or the “look both ways when crossing the road” from your Father as you blunder into the open air, or the “text me when you’re home” message from your sister when you live 300 miles away from your family home, and you’re stumbling in from a night out at university.

It’s okay to be tired, it’s okay to want to hide away from people from time to time. You are allowed to have ‘off-days’ where you’re sat in your room and you’re in a temperamental mood – we are human, this is part of living. It’s perfectly fine to have disagreements, arguments, fall-outs and spats, all this proves is that the love is always there; never extinguished. Escape from the toxic spew, talk to your parents, talk to your siblings, catch up with friends – old and new. Value the little things. Value the love and care that is so ever-present in your life, whether that is provided from your parents, siblings, lovers or friends.

Don’t be afraid to live in the moment, because the moment is the only thing we have.

The Blue-Eyed Girl With The World At Her Feet

The blue-eyed girl walked with the world at her feet, for she persuaded the belly of the Earth, and it’s essence to breathe its eternal life into her soul – filling her with unrepressed beauty and unrivalled gentleness. She walked like the breeze that danced and swirled amidst the spring leaves, tip-toeing her way through cobbled-stoned paths that took her exactly where she wanted, and needed to be.

Breathing in the rich air that surrounds her, she is a natural at living life, she never lives vicariously through it; she conquers it with each breath, with each stride, with each beat of her strong heart – she is fuelled by the energy that the Earth gives to her as she places her fingers on every surface; reaping the soul, the lust for life from each touch, from each intimate interaction. The Earth couldn’t refuse, it couldn’t do anything except for give back to her the energy that she deserved. Everything she touched cried out in wonder at how someone so pure, someone so full of life, could ever bestow the ground with her love, her beauty and her soul.

However, she often sits alone in her room, looking to the stars for inspiration on how to be a stronger person, a better person; asking the cosmos to bless her slender shoulders; praying that the moonlight would pour its eternal glow over her to wash away her sadness. Little did she know that she already had this strength within her. She needn’t ask for the world to side with her; it was already her haven, it was already watching over her. The sun, the moon and the stars watch her grow everyday, whispering to each other words of praise, words of unconditional love, words of companionship. She is an Earth child and the universe bows to her every move. The wind moves effortlessly through her golden hair, just like the gentle breeze that kisses the plains of the Serengeti. The rain falls gently onto her skin, never to bruise her, only to touch her, reminding her that she and the world work together; cocooned together in a blanket of unabashed vitality, of love.

She is pure like the rain. She is warm like the sun that teases the daffodils. She is a whirlwind romance that every living creature desires; chasing her like they chase the wind. Ha, do not be fooled, because she belongs to no one. No one but herself. She is her own warmth, her own whirlwind romance, her own purity – it reverberates through her, and into the world around her. She gives, never takes. The Earth never shrouds her in darkness, it would be impossible even if it tried. She is the beacon that radiates an eternal light that no dreary, rainy day could ever extinguish. She inspires all of the living things that grow at her feet, the beings that traverse the clouds that peer over the tufts of air to search for her guiding light.

She is a salvation, she is the cure for the ugliness that exists in the world; she is the strength that a wilting flower searches for when it is starved of the sun, and wanting to survive; she is the leaf that the weeping ant clambers on when it is lost in a cooling stream; she is the saviour of the worm that strayed too far away from the grass. To everyone, to every thing, she exists everywhere.

The girl with the blue eyes with the world at her feet lives permanently in the hearts of everyone she has ever touched, of every stranger she has ever smiled at, at every enemy that she fiercely protects herself from. She forgets sometimes that she is the most beautiful, and the most treasured girl in the universe. She forgets sometimes that she is loved so deeply by her mother, by her father and her big sister. She forgets that each would die for her; they would take away her pain in a heartbeat, they are never against her, but are always with her; always by her side, praising her, sheltering her, loving her. Unconditionally.

We are the ones that can promise an eternity of love, even if we’re far away from each other, we exist within each other, intertwined through the strongest familial bond to ever bless the universe.

Like the flowing river that runs through the village, she is free-flowing, she is unrivalled coolness, she is the lack of surrender to the elements – she exists in every season, she never shies away; she is in a state of permanent bloom. With rosy cheeks, blue, iridescent eyes, she searches for herself – but she doesn’t need to. She already knows who she is. She is strength, she is power, she is warmth – she is the girl with the blue eyes with the world at her feet.

She, is my beautiful little sister, and I love her with every fibre of my soul.

Saying goodbye to my best friend…

The bond with a true dog is as lasting as the ties of this earth will ever be. 

Konrad Lorenz

For all living creatures, all living beings, no matter how big or small, life is a beautiful gift – a myriad of paths, a bank of memories; a beautiful story.

For this chapter in my story, my tale, I experienced a heartbreak I never knew could exist – I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my soulmate, my brother, my companion – my beautiful dog. You must be thinking, whoever is reading this, that I must be exaggerating the pain I felt – I wish I was; I have never ached, crumbled and broke as much as I did when I had to let my gorgeous, golden desert dog run free – run free from the pain that he was in.

Twelve years of my life I spent with my beautiful boy; twelve uninterrupted years of true, pure love and friendship.

I still remember the first moment that I saw him…

My sister and I were stood on the second floor of our home, peering over the balcony that opened up into a great expanse of Arabian inspired furniture; with walls minted with an array of exquisite paintings – a red plush rug sat comfortably in the reception, extending from the oak doors and into the belly of our home. Our parents called from downstairs, exclaiming that “they had a surprise for us” and that they needed us to come down – I wondered what it could be – a new bike, perhaps? I didn’t even consider that it could be a new addition to our family! My sister and I were hesitant, so we stayed peering over the balcony – clutching to the railing in unabashed anticipation.

The oak doors opened and in darted a beautiful golden mass, attached to a dark lead and wielded by a tall, dark woman. This golden mass that had just entered our home was jumping up and down, sniffing the furniture in a frenzy; darting in between my mother and father. I looked at my sister and whispered: “that’s a puppy!”. We looked down at this beautiful creature again and I squealed with so much excitement that I thought I may have just broken the sound barrier – I already felt an overwhelming sense of love towards this golden creature. But, what was he doing here? In that moment of awe, of total infatuation, he looked up at us with his soulful, loving brown eyes – he was smiling, his tongue dangled clumsily out of his mouth. This was an expression that I would come to recognise and fall in love with over the twelve years that my dear ‘R’ was in my life.

Running down the polished marble staircase, guided by the antique wooden bannisters, kissed by the cooling whisper of the air-conditioning, my sister and I greeted our new best friend with a wholesome, loving embrace and a promise that we would love our dear brother for eternity.

Thus began the twelve years that would change my life forever – a change that promised unconditional companionship, love and protection. This was why letting him go at the end of his long, precious life was so devastating, so soul-destroying that even now, two months after his passing, I am still unequivocally broken. I thought that him and I would have forever together, but as an 8 year old girl living in a culture climate in the Middle East, I was naive and believed that I was impervious to time – impervious to heartbreak.

For the twelve years of his life, my dog, my best friend, my soulmate has got to be one of the most well-travelled canines to have ever existed. He was with our family from our time in Dubai, when we moved to Bangkok, he was with us when we had to move back to Dubai, and with us when we ventured to his final resting place – the United Kingdom. He undoubtably has more ‘air-miles’ than I have! In each country, in each of our 7 homes that we lived together in, our memories together, both our private memories, and the memories created as a family, have imprinted a kind of love onto my soul, my heart and my mind that I never knew existed between a human and a canine companion. I loved (and still love) my dear brother so unconditionally, that I would have done anything for him – maybe I would have given my life for him, that’s how much I value him, that’s how much I needed him; I never pictured a life without my dear canine brother.

I have never loved another creature as much as I loved ‘R’; I believe that we were soulmates. He knew exactly what I was feeling at the exact moment that I felt it – there were moments that he knew how I was feeling before I did. He knew when I was sad, and he knew exactly how to comfort me. He’d snuggle in between my legs, and do what we used to call ‘digging to China’, since he used to stuff his face into any fluffy surface that he had access to – at times, he did it so vigorously that it was almost like he was trying to dig to the other side of the world – hence, ‘digging to China’ (although, that’s a geographical inaccuracy). He’d look up at me when I was crying; his beautiful, soulful chocolate eyes thawing my heart and drying my eyes. I knew he was trying to make sure that I was okay – even though he couldn’t speak, his energy was so intense, so powerful that it didn’t matter – I understood him. He would tell me that everything was going to be okay – no matter how small the situation was. He told me that he loved me: unconditionally. When I was happy, he used to jump around my feet, nudge and rub his face into my knees, place slobbery kisses upon my palms and my ears – beautiful kisses from my beautiful boy. Whenever we went for walks, the moment the lead and collar rattled, he was up, scampering around, whining and directing me to his toilet bags – I knew where they were, they never moved from under the sink, but that was who he was – he always knew best and he always wanted to be involved. My trooper.

I know he comes to say hello sometimes, and I know he comes to me when I most need it. Even in my dreams, I see his beautiful, smiling face whenever I’m overwhelmed with university work, whenever I’m feeling low – he’s always there, always watching over me. He’s a part of me that will never, ever go away. A song that really encapsulates my feelings here, is ‘He Lives In You’ by Lebo M. – I know, it’s a Lion King classic, but I truly resonate with the pulsating drums, the angelic vocals – it paints an exquisite image of who ‘R’ was to me.

“He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see”

Lebo M.

My favourite dream that I had of my darling boy, was about a week ago – I had just had a disagreement with my boyfriend about something petty, and naturally, I was feeling raw, emotional and in need of the one thing I desired the most – my canine brother. Of course, he wasn’t there, but I still felt his presence before I fell softly to sleep – an intense pressure by my feet made it obvious that my darling brother was returning to me from his ethereal plane in order to satiate my pain. I remember the dream well – it was genuinely beautiful.

One last run…

As I fell softly to sleep in one of the snug corners of Devon, rising high above the valley that overlooked the city sprawl below, my brother returned to me. Entering my dreamscape, I was greeted by a golden vista of a diamond speckled beach; the sea licking the skin of the sand and the sun just about sinking into it’s other realm. I recall looking down at my hands – they were wrinkled, age-spotted and my mauve red nail polish reflected the dazzling sun. I recall feeling a gust of warm air brush past my below-shoulder length, golden hair, pushing it away and letting my bare skin greet the elements. Falling to my knees, I pushed my hands deep into the sand; feeling the warm belly of the earth radiate it’s eternal life into my vessel. Looking up at the warm wash of colours that painted the sky of whatever realm that I was in, I inhaled and smiled. Peace, appreciation and an overwhelming feeling of love washed over me, like the gentle waves that teased the grains. I felt a sudden urge to look to my left. A deep sense of yearning, desire and even sorrow consumed me, for all that I saw was my dear canine brother lying down on the warm bed of the earth; staring intently at me – he was old – how he looked when he passed away.

Desperation forced me to move instantly, as I couldn’t bare the thought of missing an opportunity to hold him, to feel him, to smell him once more. I ran barefoot across the sand, the waves started to whisper; the wind started to settle and before I knew it, I was right there with him. I knelt next to him, my arms were outstretched and I reached out to his now whitening face; I felt him! I swear I could feel him. His soft fur gliding through my fingers; mimicking the beach grass that swayed so balletically in tandem with the sea breeze. He looked up at me and those once deep, rich chocolate eyes, were now glazed with the memories of his life, the stories of his existence – they were now a wash of creamy white, but nevertheless, still shining. Tears started to well and I placed my forehead onto his, aligning our minds, our bodies and our souls for one last time. Only in my dreams. I remember praying that this moment would last forever, but only in my dreams, I said. It became apparent that my darling angel was too frail to walk; we were both elderly, perfect mirrors of each other – my aged hands, his whitening scruff. Boldly, I scooped his delicate frame into my arms – he was a big dog, little by no stretch – but I searched for the energy that I needed and knew existed deep within me; the energy was fuelled by my unconditional love for him – we were one: together. I carried him in my arms along the golden stretch of beach that we hadn’t covered, and about 20 steps into what I wanted to be our final adventure together, my dreamscape obviously had other plans…

Suddenly, my darling angel and I were lifted from the warm bed of sand, him still resting in my arms, and rose into the sky together in a haze of clean white, glittering yellow and iridescent purple. We began to separate, and I recall begging this ethereal power to let me hold him, I begged it not to take my brother away from me – I needed him. Upon separating, an invigorating energy spiralled from this kaleidoscopic haze and permeated both of our beings in tandem. All I remember was a powerful, infatuating energy washing over me: it gave me my youth back. Slowly, the other-worldly power set me down again into the cushioned embrace of the sand. This time, when I looked down at my hands, they were transformed from the aged-speckled hands that I possessed before, into smaller, petite hands that were firm, silky and youthful – my youth had returned to me. Confused, I searched for my brother; panicking for I could not find him – I craned my neck upwards, searching the horizons for my companion – nothing. Empty. Was he gone? Had the universe played yet another cruel joke? Had it given me a taste of what I desired before, and stripped it from me?

I was desperate, I pleaded at the break of water, I pleaded with the beach grass, at the slowly setting sun, I threw sand in a fit of mourning, of grief – I was exasperated. As the earthy shower filtered its way back down to its body, I was directed, by a gut instinct, to look beyond the grainy sheath – my brother, he was here again. This time, it wasn’t desperation that coerced me to move, it was love; pure, unwavering love. I cried out to him, his ears pricked and his familiar wide grin etched its way across his now lustrous, full coloured coat. He was bounding towards me, kicking up a storm of sand, trailblazing the already warm earth. I started towards him and we met in a flurry of love, nostalgia and unrivalled adoration. My soulmate was back. We embraced under the comfortable glow of the sun, an entity that only seemed to shine brighter at our reunion. As we held each other, I had a feeling that ‘everything was going to be okay’; he was telling me that ‘he loved me’; he was telling me that “he misses me, but he’s in a better place now, he’s always watching over me, always walking next to me, always trying to trip me up like he did before in his physical existence”. I laughed, I cried, I begged for him to stay. He assured me that he was always there, he wasn’t speaking, but our minds and souls were connected – our unbreakable bond had survived even into the bounds of a dreamland. He told me not to be scared, and that for as long as I live, he’ll always walk beside me; I won’t walk alone. His eyes widened and communicated to me that he wanted one last run: it was time for me to wake up and re-enter my world. I told him that I didn’t want a world wherein he didn’t exist. “You’re so stubborn”, he said. I laughed: “so are you, handsome”. He promised that he’d be at my feet when I woke up, he made me promise to smile upon re-entering my plane, my world – I did, I couldn’t refuse my brother.

So, as we sat crooning over the deep blue body of the ocean, I leant onto his shoulder, grabbing at his paw – he kissed my ear and told me that it was ‘time to run’. We rose, shifting the earth beneath our feet. It was time to race, but also time to say goodbye. I recall feeling that ever familiar heartbreak of leaving him, of saying goodbye – but I couldn’t be selfish – my mental cage had given me this respite from the mundane, it had given me the opportunity to see my brother again. So, we raced for one last time. Side by side, we galloped along the waters edge, my hair escaping into the wind, his fur escaping into eternity, falling back into place. We looked at each other, I looked down at my brother, I laughed, tears rolled down my flushed cheeks, his brown eyes swelled with adoration, with love, with sadness. He was leaving me now. An unspoken call: “Goodbye Shay, I’ll see you soon, I love you”. He was slowing now, but I was racing ahead; I was craning my neck trying to look back at him, I called out to him, I screamed “No!” – he told me that it was ‘okay, he’ll be watching me’. As I continued to run along this invisible road, I started to lift into the air, the sun was rising now; greeting the plane that my brother was on. He was perched on the sand now, smiling up at me, radiating eternal love. Rising now into a beam of white light that perforated the angelic warmth of this universe, I saw a fleeting glimpse of my Grandmothers by his side, followed by a familial voice “I love you, I miss you, goodbye”…

Heaven.

To you, my beautiful brother, I want to say thank you. I am lost for words, and truly devastated. There is an unfixable hole that now stretches across my heart; currently, I see no salvation, no respite from this seemingly eternal ache now that you’re gone. To you, my best friend, the absolute love of my life, I am saying goodbye. My spirit of life. I couldn’t stay where I was knowing that you were on the other side of the country, slowly slipping away from me, from us – our family. I came back for you and made that last 48 hours of your life one that was so intimate, so special – a recollection of beautiful, eternal memories. Treats, milk, chicken, burgers and cheese – a few of your favourite things, things that you will now have forever and for eternity. Thank you for giving me the best twelve years, thank you for teaching me patience, what it truly means to love unconditionally, thank you for putting up with my annoyance, and thank you for being there through the good, and the bad. You are truly, honestly, my best friend and I will love you wholly, forever; until the day I see you again – until I see you in my dreams. You are such a gift, the spirit of life, and I will miss you unwaveringly, uncontrollably and forever. I love you, goodnight my precious boy.

Run free.

21 | 11 | 2018

Strictly Mine.

The Opening Curtain

The start of a new year brings new promises, new resolutions, new goals and aspirations – a new opening curtain. I think that’s maybe why I wanted to start a blog; primarily to recenter myself as a person, to find a new hobby and compile some sort of grossly modernised portfolio that would help me to navigate my way through this beautiful thing we know as ‘life’.

Admittedly, I am totally new to the concept of blogging and I could tell you about the many hours that I spent looking at websites that strive to help ‘amateur’ blog-starters, like myself, or the countless chewed pens that currently sit next to me on my desk that spill over scribbled pages; hoping to pluck some inspiration from somewhere deep within me. However, I think I’ll just start with me, and explaining me – my life experiences as a twenty-something year old, a university student that sits cocooned in academia in the South of England, a woman that has experienced so much in my life already – so yep, I’ll start with me.

The intention of this blog truly stems from my desire to be able to publish my writing, my feelings, my life experiences, my thoughts – it’s really a homage to my own self-expression and identity. I’ve never been outwardly confident, I’d say quietly so – which is why I’ve decided to pursue my writing, but under a pseudonym and through this blog. Quietly confident, remember?

I know it’s commonplace for people to self-describe themselves as someone that strives for the best, and I do, but I sometimes fall short – and I deal with disappointment, just like everyone else. I guess that’s normal. So, because it’s normal, I’ll let you in to a little excerpt of my life – but only a little. Currently, I’m a second-year undergraduate student at the University of Exeter studying my passion for Film in the quaint Devonshire city – the supposed birth-place of Harry Potter. University has filled with me with so much joy and scope for possibility, and when it comes to next year and my graduation, I’ll truly miss it – it’s been an integral part of my life that has helped me to become the woman that I am growing into. Having said that, I’m not sure my parents are prepared for the fact that I’ll be graduating next year, and honestly, I don’t think I’m prepared for that, either. Their baby girl is growing up and although she’s flown the nest, she hasn’t ventured off into real life yet. Speaking of family, I have always been so lucky to have had the unconditional support system of my parents and my younger sister – people in my life that I idolise and people who I couldn’t get through life without. I have been fortunate to travel extensively throughout my 20 years of life. I was born in Kuwait and I was raised there; then my family and I packed up and left to Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where we lived for 14 years, with a quick stint in Bangkok, Thailand for nine months. I have had the privilege of experiencing a range of cultures; all of which have cemented my appreciation for different people who lead different lives, practicing their beliefs and projecting their own cultures into modern society.

I don’t want this blog to be primarily about who I am, but instead, I want to share that experiences that I have had in my life with the Internet in the hopes that people from all around the world would have experienced similar things to me. Maybe, there’s some common-ground. You don’t know unless you try. But I will say this before I sign off and hopefully bless the modern world with my teenage experiences: I’m a creative person. I love to write about anything and everything, and sometimes I create movie sequences in my head that could be made into a major Hollywood-blockbuster one day, I write poems and ultimately, I need to write because for me, it is a catharsis.

These things might sound silly or naive, overworked or even underworked – but these creative outlooks and creative desires are a part of who I am. So, without further adieu, I hope that whoever reads this blog, finds excitement between the digital lines of this script – I can’t promise you that things are in chronological order, some of these entries are about moments from my past and how they have shaped me into the individual that I am today.

Lots of love.

– SC

*Oh, total disclaimer, some of these posts aren’t necessarily things and moments that I have personally experienced. They are, however, dreams and potential plot-lines for a wider story; I sometimes like to insert myself into them, just because! The stories and experiences that I write about and I have personally experienced, will be headed with the tag line “Strictly Mine”. But, this is a creative writing blog – some of it isn’t true; it’s just a collection of words that I have created within my mind.