Just took a nice soothing sip of peppermint tea, forgot I left the teabag in and nearly choked because it got stuck to my tongue.
Somewhere in that sexy little picture I’ve painted for you is a hidden truth. Just you wait.
So one of the biggest dilemmas in my life is how to keep up with a world that moves too fast.
To be honest a part of me has wanted to get off since they stopped making Starburst Joosters.
I trip up a lot on this merry-go-round. Sometimes because my shoes don’t fit right and sometimes because I can’t see where I’m going because I blink too much. Either way it’s a struggle.
Basically, I’m 25 and I’m living in a city of rain and bad hair days, scared of making decisions and not liking a lot of modern things like Snapchat and chai and don’t get me started on wasabi.
The way I see it, we’re speeding along on the planetary equivalent of an exceptionally fast sushi conveyor belt, stacking up little plates of ideas and rituals and conformities in a very haphazard, significantly over-priced and horrifyingly unhygienic way. And on top of all this, the planet we live on is seriously BIG so we’re moving fast but not necessarily getting anywhere. Big ideas, big systems, big buildings, big handbags, big frappes, big creatures, Big Brother, “the Big society”, big mistakes. Hell, we live on a planet where people think so big they’re actually trying to bring mammoths back to life. Just what?
I’ve discovered while I’ve been “growing up” that I just don’t get along with these grand ideas, like physics, the economy, Doc Martens. I’m afraid of lots of things too; spiders, cancer, that fruit with all the holes in, extremely narrow stairs, mammoths coming back to life, my dreams, my imagination…
So I choose to reside in a world that’s much smaller, and this manifests itself as a uniquely high level of enthusiasm for the little things in life. It may also be why I’m adored by many (under 10s and puppies). Most of the time I don’t really think about this, except when people express mild amusement and I have to defend my enthusiasm for dinky Tupperware.
But every now and then the world as we know it stops still. Our every day is rocked, the ride halts. And in these moments of stillness, of silence, suddenly the big things in life are reduced to nothing, or simply not what they seem, and it’s impossible to know what to believe in any more. And for me, that’s when the little things start to really count.
I’ve wanted to write this post for ages purely to share my love for the mundane. But with consistently shattering events happening around the world I’m finding it more and more essential to find other ways of defining what it is to live on this planet and to not be ruled by fear. To embrace the little treasures so that in times of universal catastrophe or loss or terror there is still something to hold on so we don’t fall apart.
For me, right now, it’s things like Lena Dunham’s podcast series, all the peppermint tea, seeing the sky through leaves, leggings automatically making me feel flexible, £1 books in charity shops, Christmas lights, Cadbury’s Snow Bites, blister plasters because I just discovered them and holy cow they are the fruit of the earth, and Parks and Recreation because it’s the happiest television programme ever and I love being in love with Amy Poehler. It’s holding onto my favourite people tight and making sure they know how much I love them, reading book after book, and smiling at strangers even when they dangle their sodden umbrellas on you on public transport.
I’ll know when I’ve stopped being afraid because I won’t bite my nails anymore and that hasn’t happened yet, so I’m not saying life’s little joys just automatically solve the big issues (although blister plasters come very, very close). But in my head, finding happiness in the smallest of moments that are completely my own, will get me through the bad days, be it the worst of anxiety or just good old kale bringing me down, and back on the yellow brick road in no time.
Perhaps it’s a little bonkers that a real comfort in this world is knowing that no matter what happens there’s always a mug of peppermint tea ready to get stuck in your throat. But that’s okay, because that means I’m lucky, and for that I am grateful.