Feeling grateful

So.  I’m being a sticky beak.  As I write, in an upmarket cafe, a lady gracefully sits at the table next to mine.  A lady, not just a woman.

It only took me a five-second glance to notice her posture (elegantly poised), her demeanour (calm and composed) and most of all, her accessories.  Complimenting one another in varying shades of purple.

A colour I never wear, which makes her all the more intriguing.

She wears a thin wool sweater with feminine pintucks, in a deep royal purple.  A dainty lilac silk scarf, knotted coquettishly around her neck.  Her tote bag next to her is a rich magenta leather, with shiny gold hardware. 

It sounds like too much, but somehow, she’s made it work.  She is, hands down, the most stylish person I’ve seen for quite a while.  I am impressed.

She is slim, fine-boned, with delicate wrists and ankles, and pale ivory skin – yet she glows and looks well rested.  She doesn’t need blush or tan.  I get the feeling that she’s had a good night’s sleep. 

She is having coffee and reading the weekend newspaper.  Reads every page with keen interest.  She does not miss one single page.  Her life does not appear to be rushed – surely it mustn’t be, if she can read the newspaper like that?

The pace at which she turns the pages starts to frustrate me.  I feel like telling her to hurry up…and begin to wonder, doesn’t she have anything else to do today?  Somewhere to be?  Someone to see?

It irritates me slightly, not knowing.  So I allow myself to make assumptions about her life.  I know I’m judging her now.  Does she have a partner, have kids?  Her carefully selected outfit, her flawlessness, her pace, suggest no…no children.  Perhaps not a partner, either.  

By now I’ve taken a few glances her way.  I’d not be surprised if she thinks I’m attracted to her.  I am – but not in a sexual way.  I’m attracted to her because of what she represents. 

A world I know I don’t belong to.  Because we appear to be opposites.

For today, my style?  Let’s see.  Old Birkenstocks housing feet in need of a pedicure.  White cargo pants that have been hurriedly rolled up.  An old grey singlet, underneath a white & navy striped three-quarter sleeved t-shirt.  Possible casual, French look..?  But also possibly – ah yes, as I suspected – wearing some of my son’s Weetbix.  No, a French woman would not accessorise with breakfast cereal.  Let’s just stick with just casual, then.

Messy hair.  A few knots.  Skipped the conditioner.  Black hairband doubling as a bracelet.  Posture?  I’m comfortably slumped over the table, head propped up by one hand keeping the hair out of my eyes, my other hand writing in my 72c exercise book with a Bic pen. 

I glance over at her one last time – she is still reading the newspaper – and smile to myself.

I get up, pay for my coffee, start walking home back to my family..and am still smiling.

Because I’ve been reminded that my life, to me, is perfect because of its simplicity, its familiarity, its messiness and hurriedness.  I am grateful for the fact I don’t often have time to read the newspaper. 

As I walk home, I glance again at my son’s Weetbix on my t-shirt, and am filled with happiness. 

I feel so incredibly lucky…and laugh out loud, not caring what people think.


15 responses to “Feeling grateful

    • Thanks so much for your comment! I can’t say I always feel like that – I do take things for granted sometimes, but more often than not (and the more time goes on) do I feel grateful 🙂

  1. Beautiful post. I know exactly what you mean- my house is messy, my days are rushes, my legs are very much unshaven- but I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

    Would it be OK if I featured this post on AMB in the next couple of weeks…? 🙂

  2. being happy walking in our own shoes is ultimate happiness to me – so glad you have found it and feel it! Go the weekbix top – so glad you are making it a fashion statement and I am not alone in my dress standards 🙂 thanks for sharing your honest thougths… Naomi x

  3. me too … another with food, spew and god knows what else all over me. With my targgeettt brand clothes 🙂

  4. Amen to that!

    I’m usually not without my usual snot/booger covered leather jacket. Ppl think I look like a biker mom, until they look real close. Then, they stay real far away.
    Hah… scaredy-cats.


  5. I love this post. You are me and I wish I was her, but maybe I don’t …. maybe. I want both and yet I have children which immediately negates the stylish, sophisticated part. Yes I choose box number one every time but it doesn’t mean that sometimes I don’t crave box number two!

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