A french neighbour who works with disadvantaged teenagers told me a story today.
A 14 year old lad lost his step father yesterday, who he called Oncle. He was in a rage, a wreck. His real father died when he was 4. He felt alone.
My friend said to him
“Papa and Oncle are like the lilac. Papa is gone. Oncle is gone. When the lilac is gone we are reminded of it’s beauty because we remember, in the back of our mind, it’s wonderful perfume.”
Afterwards the boy stopped and was still.
December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?
About the author: Jeffrey Davis
Simply. I walked. A lot. In the hills. And the wind was blowing.
More wonder than you can shake a stick at.
December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).
About the author: Ali Edwards.
This year has been full of great moments but the one that stands out for me is a bit of wild swimming in the Gorges de Galamus.
It was a hot day. One of those days when you can smell the tarmac melting on the roads. Solid blue skies. Crazy cloud formations. Cicadas signing their hearts out.
We head out of the Fosse valley and down through the nearest town of Saint Paul de Fenouillet. Faded buildings and roaming, free-spirited dogs in the streets. The cafe in the square is full of local boys with sun beaten faces drinking coffee the colour of mud. Too early to grab a cheeky Pastis before they start work on the vines? Unlikely. I notice that their cigarette-rough Catalan drawl is getting easier to understand.
We stop to grab picnic provisions. Fresh, warm and pointy baguettes, salty dried ham from over the border and a melon that smells like sunshine.
After driving through the gorge, we park up and start walking back to a place I know where you can get off the road and into the water. I fight the acrophobia all the way. It’s a long way down. Pesky vertigo makes me want to throw myself over the edge and I wobble a bit. We scramble over a wall and slide down the shingle and shale heading for the river and the deep, bright pools below us. If you look carefully you can see the fish circling.
We find a spot under a leafy tree and discard shorts and hats and sunblock. I smoke. Pete smokes. Then the water beckons.
It’s deep and cold and like an electric shock. It’s incredible.
We jump and dive and splash. We muck about. It feels like being six again. Everyone is smiling; great big fat smiles. Then someone decides to climb up the rocks. I think it’s Pete. Anne follows. Clare takes photographs. I climb. Then I stand.
And then I’m a scaredy cat. I can’t move. I can’t jump and I can’t get down again. There are rocks in the water below. In another land where health and safety runs riot it would be signposted Slippery when Wet.
And then I do it. And it feels good.
It’s funny what you miss when you can’t have it.
I’m a bit of a foodie (aka Fattie) and please don’t get me wrong – I love French cusine but when you try to go out for Mexican food and get goats cheese served in a tortilla something’s not quite right with the world.
So while I’m in the UK I have set myself a food challenge.
My list of “Food to Stuff While You Can” is below. Let’s take a look…
I’ll be the size of a house by the time I get home.
Here’s the prompt:
December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?
About the author: Leo Babauta
I keep busy. Or should I say, I pretend to keep busy. I find stuff to do. The stuff rarely takes the form of sitting down to write. I’m an excuse monkey. And a commitment-phobe.
I should remember that I enjoy writing. Writing is good for me. I wish I remembered to feel about writing like I feel about a cup of tea. I feel I need one of those to start my day.
Thought for 2011: Writing is like a nice cup of tea.
A little late but better than never I found a reflective challenge for the end of 2010 called Reverb 10 via The Pig Pog Blog. Here’s the story behind Reverb 10.
So I’ve got some catching up to do.
December 1 One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
About the author: Gwen Bell
My One Word to encapsulate 2010 is Brave. I think I was brave this year. I guess I’ve done stuff I’ve been scared of and that feels good. I chose to live in another place. Somewhere different, where they speak another language and do stuff differently. I’ve climbed high things and not fallen off and I’ve spent a lot of time on my own. I’m not so scared anymore.
My One Word for 2011 is Create. I need a little or a lot of make-and-do in my life. It’s been lacking for a few years now. And when I say create I mean the objects and experiences I can count on my fingers and toes at the end of 2011. Stuff I Made or Stuff I Made Happen.
If you want to sign up, head over to Sign up at Reverb 10. Follow the tweets using #reverb10.