Let us make spirituality our new religion and kindness our virtue.
London has been snowing all day, and the city is magically covered in white fluff. Shame I was too busy having fun, no time to take photos.
The image of a white carpet covering the roofs and gardens of London, pavements and branches everywhere, gives winter a sense of purity and abundance. This is not about colour, but mainly black and white, as a black pencil drawing on a white sheet of paper. A particular youthful joy is attached to this wholesome scenery, watching the passers-by on the pavement as I sat in the back seat of Aisha's car. Is it the joy in my heart? Feeling a volcanic outburst of love all around me and being content? Or is this a mutual feeling amongst the people all around? I have an idea of the answer to that question. All I know is that it felt good.
Now, let's begin with the most glamorous party of the year, held by none but the fabulous Aisha and Pepe. Woooe! What a way to go. Some hundred and fifty people turned up to help celebrate four birthdays in one big bang! We like bangs. Haha. My black velvet dress with the buttons running from an open V-neck at the back by J P Gautier was screaming at me from the wardrobe. 'Pick me, pick me!' Accompanied by the leopard ankle, Jimmy Choos, a semi-curly, thirties style hairdo by Dez and finally, a long string of black, white and pale pink pearls hanging on my bare back, was effortless to put together.
Since it had begun snowing, driving was not an option, and Kristel accompanied me to Aisha's. Upon entrance to the hallway, the place was already buzzing with an international crowd of elegance and glamour. From the vibrant Valentino red velvet suit, Marcel accomplished his classic good looks, and then he was introduced to his partner Jean-Paul, who looked equally dashing in his fading tan. Aisha had one of the shapely, elongating, black numbers on from the latest LA designer (do I remember the name of? Ah ah), with a lace tattoo on her face. The new bride arrived, whose magical wedding in Puglia will forever live in memory, carrying a hat topped by a felt-type black gun and a hippie-type flower hanging from its mouth, not to forget mentioning those 'to-die-for' platform ankle boots with silver spikes, elegantly threatening at the back. I could go on and on with this description, but then, with all the familiar faces carrying smiles to lighten up any dark night, my evening became filled with pure joy. Everyone seemed happy, making new friends, sometimes in doubt of where or when we had last met, but hey, with all the people we each interact with regularly, who can keep track? Dancing on the large wooden coffee table was a theme to be noticed, as in each party here!
Dave introduced me to a friend of his, the delightful Angie, who had recently moved to our wonderful city, and we did share a dance together later at that table. Seeing Raquel, who happened to be my roommate in Kerala, on our Indian adventure at an ayurvedic resort with Aisha and Aida, it was like being thrown back in time to our special moments spent together. She had been touring around, and we had lost contact for a while, but here we were again, as though no time had whisked between us.
As a matter of sharing, I have felt so special for some time now. In what way is it unique? It is as though trust in God and the fact that 'everything is gonna be alright' is taking shape as a form of acceptance. A realisation has arisen that life is as I genuinely make of it, and I want to make it 'Happy' and 'Meaningful'.
What has been most remarkable in the past few days/weeks is being in close contact, either by text or especially making time to re-connect with so many of my new and especially old friends, mostly women, each of their inspirational life stories/journeys has given me new hope in the fact that we are all on the road to 'recovery'. Recovery from what? From pushing behind a world of hardship and suffering, then, as a matter of 'choice', choosing to live a more fulfilled, kind, and loving life.
I began seeing Maygol again for more positive doses of her 'five-element acupuncture' after we realised it had been a year since my last visit. She worked her magic, and I left on a high note.
A night of fun and laughter with Charlotte at the Hollywood Arms, where a big bowl of celeriac soup made us so complete that the large portion of sole could not be in any way digested after. And that was just the food; when it came to the loud music, which scratched the inner panel of any ear as a nail on a blackboard would, I asked the friendly waitress, comically:
"Any chance we could get rid of this hip hop shit music? Pleaaase."
The adorable girl with a ponytail smiled and said, ' Unfortunately, there was no way of changing the music, as it was on some sort of 'cannot change' mode!' Oh well, I tried.
Instead of saying we are creatures of habit and keep doing the same old thing, why not think we can make significant changes! Ah. Genius! Haha...
Charlotte and I left the pub immediately after we ate and entered Brinkley's bar next door to recover in a pleasant atmosphere with good music! Aaaah. A blessing to the hearing.
There, we interacted with the following table gentlemen, one dressed in casual, dark attire and the other suited in a pinstripe with a bright yellow Hermés tie and pochette and an old, tasteful Cartier watch, both of whose heads would turn at the sight of every woman who passed by outside the glass façade of the bar or entered and passed by their table, as watching a ping pong ball move in all directions. It did not take a genius to figure out where they were from! The more subtle one was enquiring about a club to take his client, who spoke no English but clearly wanted to party. We tried to give suggestions but left soon after our glass of champagne.
A day visit to Brighton to meet up with my great-old friend Shiba was a smooth drive, and I got to Lewes station on time to pick her up and visit. I can't even find the word on Google! A shirman/Sherman? That is what I heard my friend call this man. Some kind of guru, let's say. Since none of us are too cynical or inquisitive on a mission to make life easier and more fulfilling, we end up doing all kinds of alternative therapy that is thrown our way. So, we were parked in the open parking space, where 'the' man himself resided, waiting for him to appear from the housing compound facing us.
The bearded face of a tall, thin man came into view, so we left the car behind and joined him as he walked us to his open-plan living room to talk about his kind of 'therapy'. He spoke of a particular 'wood' taken by those attending for three days and how this helped open new doors into one's life. This is, at best, I can put it. If the accommodations were better, Shiba and I discussed this in mutual agreement; we would be much more keen to try it out later in the year. But then again, isn't it part of the progress of being more adaptable to one's surroundings? Acceptance?
Well, you will know my answer closer to the time.
Before heading to Carmelita's, a welcome with the warmest hospitable hug awaited; once again, I was shaken and inspired to see how well Carmelita had adjusted to her new life in her new home, away from home. Coming from such a rock chick state to which she had adopted herself, living the high life, into a whirlwind of experiences which had now taken her on a new journey so far-fetched those many years ago, the mind would have never imagined. Yet, faith in God and developing a power of learning to make changes when necessary with no doubt but acceptance had made her a happier being with a positive attitude in every way. I told her how I admired her courage, gratitude, and acknowledgement of being in the now. Things are just how they are, so what will we do about them to change?
We change our ways.
As Shiba and I spent our last couple of hours chatting at Brighton's Hotel du Vin trendy bar, I mentioned a specific present purchased for the coming birthday of a... a lovely man in my life. My friend almost shouted at me for my 'ongoing' extravagance (as she put it), then called the slender waiter with the most pleasant African smile and asked him the following:
"Now, listen. If a woman meets a man and spends two days with him, should she buy him a lavish gift when they next meet?"
"Shiba," I butted in before she went on. "Three days, not two."
"Wha'ever," My friend continued, oblivious to my giggle of no belief that she would, in no time, make this into a live debate amongst the rest of the customers there, too. She then questioned: "Wouldn't you think, what's she after?"
The waiter listened with full attention, went to serve the next customer and came back with an answer!
He sincerely replied: "Frankly, yes. I wouldn't take anything for him if I were you. You're going there, and that's plenty."
Although Shiba made her point, this matter of gift-giving is only relevant to the individual. It's like a relationship; it's only between two people involved: a couple, a mother and child, any two people. Only those involved are aware of what goes on behind those eyes, in each cell of our body and in that beat a heart possesses. So, as to what I will do with the present, give it or not, the main thing I know, apart from the fact that he's worth more than any material present, is that 'I am worth it'.
Today, Friday, was the weekend, arriving early! After the marvellous party on Thursday, Kristel and I were invited for lunch with Serge and Sergio, who had come down, especially for Aisha's big night. Getting to lunch in the cab and watching the snow settling down gently on the streets of our city was like being on Disney Channel. Kristel and I arrived on time at our friends' lavish hotel for a mouth-watering lunch under the open space above, presented by a glass conservatory overlooking the snowy sky. Aisha joined us for coffee and petit four. The boys went for a rest after lunch, while we, the three girls, proceeded to Portobello market to check out a fur/crocodile shop and then lounge back at Aisha's, with Pepe and a handful of others with a magnificent glass of red wine, in front of the fireplace.
I dropped Kristel by cab before heading home to pack and write my blog...
Where am I going tomorrow early morning? Paris... Pareeee. A 'romantic' weekend could be one way of putting it, and 'deliciously naughty', another. Call it what you like; I am smiling BIG time. Gosh! Is it 3:00am... Again?!?
Na Night mes amis.
PS This was meant to be my 'short' blog. Can only do something half-measure!
Alright, alright... I'm OFF.
London has been snowing all day, and the city is magically covered in white fluff. Shame I was too busy having fun, no time to take photos.
The image of a white carpet covering the roofs and gardens of London, pavements and branches everywhere, gives winter a sense of purity and abundance. This is not about colour, but mainly black and white, as a black pencil drawing on a white sheet of paper. A particular youthful joy is attached to this wholesome scenery, watching the passers-by on the pavement as I sat in the back seat of Aisha's car. Is it the joy in my heart? Feeling a volcanic outburst of love all around me and being content? Or is this a mutual feeling amongst the people all around? I have an idea of the answer to that question. All I know is that it felt good.
Now, let's begin with the most glamorous party of the year, held by none but the fabulous Aisha and Pepe. Woooe! What a way to go. Some hundred and fifty people turned up to help celebrate four birthdays in one big bang! We like bangs. Haha. My black velvet dress with the buttons running from an open V-neck at the back by J P Gautier was screaming at me from the wardrobe. 'Pick me, pick me!' Accompanied by the leopard ankle, Jimmy Choos, a semi-curly, thirties style hairdo by Dez and finally, a long string of black, white and pale pink pearls hanging on my bare back, was effortless to put together.
Since it had begun snowing, driving was not an option, and Kristel accompanied me to Aisha's. Upon entrance to the hallway, the place was already buzzing with an international crowd of elegance and glamour. From the vibrant Valentino red velvet suit, Marcel accomplished his classic good looks, and then he was introduced to his partner Jean-Paul, who looked equally dashing in his fading tan. Aisha had one of the shapely, elongating, black numbers on from the latest LA designer (do I remember the name of? Ah ah), with a lace tattoo on her face. The new bride arrived, whose magical wedding in Puglia will forever live in memory, carrying a hat topped by a felt-type black gun and a hippie-type flower hanging from its mouth, not to forget mentioning those 'to-die-for' platform ankle boots with silver spikes, elegantly threatening at the back. I could go on and on with this description, but then, with all the familiar faces carrying smiles to lighten up any dark night, my evening became filled with pure joy. Everyone seemed happy, making new friends, sometimes in doubt of where or when we had last met, but hey, with all the people we each interact with regularly, who can keep track? Dancing on the large wooden coffee table was a theme to be noticed, as in each party here!
Dave introduced me to a friend of his, the delightful Angie, who had recently moved to our wonderful city, and we did share a dance together later at that table. Seeing Raquel, who happened to be my roommate in Kerala, on our Indian adventure at an ayurvedic resort with Aisha and Aida, it was like being thrown back in time to our special moments spent together. She had been touring around, and we had lost contact for a while, but here we were again, as though no time had whisked between us.
As a matter of sharing, I have felt so special for some time now. In what way is it unique? It is as though trust in God and the fact that 'everything is gonna be alright' is taking shape as a form of acceptance. A realisation has arisen that life is as I genuinely make of it, and I want to make it 'Happy' and 'Meaningful'.
What has been most remarkable in the past few days/weeks is being in close contact, either by text or especially making time to re-connect with so many of my new and especially old friends, mostly women, each of their inspirational life stories/journeys has given me new hope in the fact that we are all on the road to 'recovery'. Recovery from what? From pushing behind a world of hardship and suffering, then, as a matter of 'choice', choosing to live a more fulfilled, kind, and loving life.
I began seeing Maygol again for more positive doses of her 'five-element acupuncture' after we realised it had been a year since my last visit. She worked her magic, and I left on a high note.
A night of fun and laughter with Charlotte at the Hollywood Arms, where a big bowl of celeriac soup made us so complete that the large portion of sole could not be in any way digested after. And that was just the food; when it came to the loud music, which scratched the inner panel of any ear as a nail on a blackboard would, I asked the friendly waitress, comically:
"Any chance we could get rid of this hip hop shit music? Pleaaase."
The adorable girl with a ponytail smiled and said, ' Unfortunately, there was no way of changing the music, as it was on some sort of 'cannot change' mode!' Oh well, I tried.
Instead of saying we are creatures of habit and keep doing the same old thing, why not think we can make significant changes! Ah. Genius! Haha...
Charlotte and I left the pub immediately after we ate and entered Brinkley's bar next door to recover in a pleasant atmosphere with good music! Aaaah. A blessing to the hearing.
There, we interacted with the following table gentlemen, one dressed in casual, dark attire and the other suited in a pinstripe with a bright yellow Hermés tie and pochette and an old, tasteful Cartier watch, both of whose heads would turn at the sight of every woman who passed by outside the glass façade of the bar or entered and passed by their table, as watching a ping pong ball move in all directions. It did not take a genius to figure out where they were from! The more subtle one was enquiring about a club to take his client, who spoke no English but clearly wanted to party. We tried to give suggestions but left soon after our glass of champagne.
A day visit to Brighton to meet up with my great-old friend Shiba was a smooth drive, and I got to Lewes station on time to pick her up and visit. I can't even find the word on Google! A shirman/Sherman? That is what I heard my friend call this man. Some kind of guru, let's say. Since none of us are too cynical or inquisitive on a mission to make life easier and more fulfilling, we end up doing all kinds of alternative therapy that is thrown our way. So, we were parked in the open parking space, where 'the' man himself resided, waiting for him to appear from the housing compound facing us.
The bearded face of a tall, thin man came into view, so we left the car behind and joined him as he walked us to his open-plan living room to talk about his kind of 'therapy'. He spoke of a particular 'wood' taken by those attending for three days and how this helped open new doors into one's life. This is, at best, I can put it. If the accommodations were better, Shiba and I discussed this in mutual agreement; we would be much more keen to try it out later in the year. But then again, isn't it part of the progress of being more adaptable to one's surroundings? Acceptance?
Well, you will know my answer closer to the time.
Before heading to Carmelita's, a welcome with the warmest hospitable hug awaited; once again, I was shaken and inspired to see how well Carmelita had adjusted to her new life in her new home, away from home. Coming from such a rock chick state to which she had adopted herself, living the high life, into a whirlwind of experiences which had now taken her on a new journey so far-fetched those many years ago, the mind would have never imagined. Yet, faith in God and developing a power of learning to make changes when necessary with no doubt but acceptance had made her a happier being with a positive attitude in every way. I told her how I admired her courage, gratitude, and acknowledgement of being in the now. Things are just how they are, so what will we do about them to change?
We change our ways.
As Shiba and I spent our last couple of hours chatting at Brighton's Hotel du Vin trendy bar, I mentioned a specific present purchased for the coming birthday of a... a lovely man in my life. My friend almost shouted at me for my 'ongoing' extravagance (as she put it), then called the slender waiter with the most pleasant African smile and asked him the following:
"Now, listen. If a woman meets a man and spends two days with him, should she buy him a lavish gift when they next meet?"
"Shiba," I butted in before she went on. "Three days, not two."
"Wha'ever," My friend continued, oblivious to my giggle of no belief that she would, in no time, make this into a live debate amongst the rest of the customers there, too. She then questioned: "Wouldn't you think, what's she after?"
The waiter listened with full attention, went to serve the next customer and came back with an answer!
He sincerely replied: "Frankly, yes. I wouldn't take anything for him if I were you. You're going there, and that's plenty."
Although Shiba made her point, this matter of gift-giving is only relevant to the individual. It's like a relationship; it's only between two people involved: a couple, a mother and child, any two people. Only those involved are aware of what goes on behind those eyes, in each cell of our body and in that beat a heart possesses. So, as to what I will do with the present, give it or not, the main thing I know, apart from the fact that he's worth more than any material present, is that 'I am worth it'.
Today, Friday, was the weekend, arriving early! After the marvellous party on Thursday, Kristel and I were invited for lunch with Serge and Sergio, who had come down, especially for Aisha's big night. Getting to lunch in the cab and watching the snow settling down gently on the streets of our city was like being on Disney Channel. Kristel and I arrived on time at our friends' lavish hotel for a mouth-watering lunch under the open space above, presented by a glass conservatory overlooking the snowy sky. Aisha joined us for coffee and petit four. The boys went for a rest after lunch, while we, the three girls, proceeded to Portobello market to check out a fur/crocodile shop and then lounge back at Aisha's, with Pepe and a handful of others with a magnificent glass of red wine, in front of the fireplace.
I dropped Kristel by cab before heading home to pack and write my blog...
Where am I going tomorrow early morning? Paris... Pareeee. A 'romantic' weekend could be one way of putting it, and 'deliciously naughty', another. Call it what you like; I am smiling BIG time. Gosh! Is it 3:00am... Again?!?
Na Night mes amis.
PS This was meant to be my 'short' blog. Can only do something half-measure!
Alright, alright... I'm OFF.
No comments:
Post a Comment