tiny treasures, indiana jones, valuable, grateful, joy, happy

Tiny treasures

Of course we are desperate for hard cash at this point. But here are some other things that are… gold dust.

An easy parking place

Maybe you are a brilliant parker, able to whizz into the snuggest of spots, with the speed of Nigel Mansell and the sexy impatience of Ayrton Senna. Or maybe you are pathetically grateful for a plus-sized parking place, nowhere near any scooters or bikes parked against lampposts at awkward angles, miles away from laughing and pointing onlookers. You hate parking and frequently ask nearby men to park for you which you know makes you a bad feminist but…

15 minutes of quiet

Sure, you need a week of being massaged on a semi-silent retreat to deal with the voices in your head, to stop being so reactive mode, to handle all the everyday decisions but… these days you can see the beauty in 15 minutes of silence. Just that. Preferably while you are horizontal.

Evenings that finish at 9:30pm

Fun ones. Delicious ones. Maybe you buy dinner, maybe they do. Everything sparkles including your conversation. You don’t eat too much and lie in bed wide awake at 1:30am feeling like an anaconda digesting a small pony while watching all the greatest faux pas you’ve ever made on a loop in your head. Bed by 10. Sleep by 10:15.

When someone sees you are struggling but doesn’t try and fix it

Bear with us. This is two-fold precious. One who sees – ACTUALLY SEES – behind the concealer and dry shampoo. One who can tell that maybe the wheels are coming off. And doesn’t immediately suggest meditation, doesn’t try and solve it but rather just sits down and listens. Or just is. Diamond.

That minute when there is no laundry

White wash? Tick. Dark wash? Tick. Delicates? Tick, tick. Sheets? Clean on. Towels? Only two days old. Bath mat? *sound of washing machine starting up again and woman howling and rending her garments*

A compliment

Not general ‘you look nice’ or the slightly backhanded ‘well’ (fat?) but an actual grown-up compliment that is specific to you and what you are doing. That feels sincere and spontaneous. You feel seen. And known. And swishy.

When the days get longer

Just right now when you suddenly look out of the window and yes it’s gloomy and probably raining, and yes you’ve got a leak in the kitchen that is going to cost £10,00000000 and countless hours of energy and organisation to fix but it’s not completely dark. And yes you are a bit scared of high summer but we’re not there yet. Not yet.

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