Patience is not the ability of waiting but how you act while waiting. A quote by Joyce Meyers
Patience is all around. It is something that, as my Eurostar is speeding through luscious green fields on the way back from England to Paris, France, that I have more and more. Albeit it is hard to see through the grimy window of the racing Eurostar. Still it is mood enhancing. I read somewhere that it is very good for neuro plasticity to dream while looking out if the window.
So what am I dreaming about? Well I have a “Mona Lisa” half smile on my face as I remember a beautiful Blue Tit bird quietly pecking at the seed stick outside the window of my Mother’s kitchen. The bird was seemingly oblivious to its surroundings and was interested solely on pecking at the wonderful food stick on the cold but fresh and bright Sunday morning. It was liberating. The bird was free.
And immediately the phone rang and it was my brother John from Turkey. I took that as a sign that all will be well in this world. I am praying very hard to the Universe for the best possible outcome given the circumstances. We shall know more tomorrow.
My mother worries. Of course she does. Any mother would. So I believe that it was meant to be that Charlotte and I spent the weekend with Muv and Nige to help them through the difficult time and situation by bringing a different energy to their lives.
It was a beautiful visit packed full of surprise events and gentle moments of complicity and compassion.
Poor Charlotte, arriving by plane at Gatwick and getting a train via London, did not arrive in Canterbury until 8.30pm. I arranged for a taxi to pick her up and that is where it started to go astray.
The woman operating the taxi desk , when I mentioned where my parents lived, was adamant that they had recently dropped off another Kent to the same address and more coincidentally it was with the same driver. Apparently I even used the same directions to avoid some roadworks. So it did seem like Dave but I didn’t manage to confirm it as the line was suddenly lost and I was left hanging on the end of emptiness. Still I was kind of spooked that it might have been Dave, my twin. And the receptionist adamantly had confirmed that he even sounded like me. So it must have been him.
Speaking to Charlotte, she was reassured that the driver knew where to go. The time ticked on and it’s still no Charlotte.
There were quite a few phone calls that really didn’t advance the ability to understand where exactly she was. as she’s never been to my parents place before, it was dark and she is Swedish. Still, to cut a long story short because it was a very long story and a long night, me and my father eventually found her in the middle of nowhere outside some persons house, who was lodging there and didn’t know anyone in the area.
Furthermore, my father and I had driven to another part of the valley to try and find where she had been dropped off by the taxi driver, assuming this will be the place most logical to have dropped her. I even pinned the location of where we were to her. Still, we eventually located her and came back and all is well that ends well.
The rest of the weekend was delightful, and certainly less eventful. It’s sad to have left, but I am very happy to have visited my parents with Charlotte and we shall certainly be back.
So... 