A Little Less Conversation.

Today is Valentine’s Day…oh you knew that already?  May you have a happy, happy day, blessed with and by love.

My Darling One and I are going to a party tonight.  And  I’ll be taking a survey, because I’ve noticed recently that conversations with strangers often lead to me being stranded as they dash away to get another drink or a bite to eat, or I experience the ‘fixed smile’ syndrome or the ‘there there dear, it’ll be all right’ pat on the arm.  It’s a bit disconcerting… maybe it’s something to do with my conversational style.  I’m checking it out.

I’m thinking it might have started here.

When I was knee high to a grasshopper I used to pretend I was invisible, so I could sit, tucked away in a corner when my mum and grandma had afternoon tea with the neighbours…have I mentioned I was always a nosey parker?    It worked, no-one could see me…or was it that they just chose to pretend I wasn’t there?  Hmm.  But I learned a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because of what I overheard and what my mum and grandma instilled in me from an early age, I learned about the power of imagination ~ a form of pretending perhaps?

I found that imagination could transform winter into summer, cold dark England into tropical Tahiti, night into day, and even transcend time and space, making there into here: that space is no obstacle to imagination and that Einstein, who said imagination was more powerful than knowledge, was even more of a genius than I gave him credit for…because naturally he’d really value my opinion.

Tahiti.

And I practiced using it, my imagination that is.  And I was always happy to talk about it.

I had discovered that my outer world is a mirror, reflecting back to me my beliefs, my thoughts and feelings, even thoughts I held about others.  In fact that everything in my consciousness, be it good or, more often than I might admit, not so good, showed up as an experience.  Bummer.  But I was always happy to talk about it.

At some point along the way I took responsibility for my thoughts, for my consciousness.  Not in a blaming, self flagellating way but just an easy, okay there’s something in my consciousness that I can change, if I want to sort of way.  And I was always happy to talk about it.

Recognizing that my thoughts were real forces, I knew I had the ability to choose to entertain a thought or dismiss it.  I’m not brilliant at this, but getting better every day and it’s getting easier, always a good thing.  Being a lazy bones I like easy.  Plus, I was happy to talk about it.

Most of what I’m happy to talk about might just be considered…to put it politely…out there.

And there’s more…so much more that I’m happy to talk about, but I’ve accepted the thought that this is probably about all anyone can take before they run away to pour themselves a stiff one.  And now I’m imagining you sitting there with that fixed smile on your face…maybe I should stop talking now.

Perhaps a little less conversation from me would be the way to go.

Encourage each other.

Love Elle

xoxo

Images

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