It’s a crackpot life

Each of us has our own unique flaws, like cracked pots and vases. These cracks and flaws are not bad things but make our lives interesting and rewarding. We need to accept people as they are and look for the good in them, not dwell on negatives or taint with constant hate and jealousy. Nobody and nothing is perfect, and that’s what so priceless about it.

All too often we focus on the bad and negative, forgetting there is a lot of good and positive out there. We are human shaped, not fat or thin, flexible and adaptable not out of shape. Taking time to appreciate all the different kinds of people in our lives, better to colour in life with every crayon than colour with a single one; imagine a world in rainbow compared with sky blue. Living the crackpot life.

© Fi S. J. Brown

The Swan

Earlier this week I tuned and adjusted the white balance of this picture, which I recently took of me with my mobile/cell phone; finding myself looking in the eyes saying ‘yes that’s me‘ and ‘quite a good photograph for a quick selfie.

For a long time an ogerous monster lived in my head that would have said something like this: ‘eww, what an ugly and loveable freak of nature you are, no wonder people point and laugh at you in the street. Delete that at once, nobody wants to see your ugly face on Facebook or Instagram. Don’t bother taking any more selfies, shows your ego is growing. Oh and may break your phone…ha ha!’

Instead another voice came out, the one I use when talking to others with my natural empathy and understanding ways, and not one I have heard myself say to me: ‘You look pretty and happy there Fi. Who cares if you see flaws or things that aren’t right in this photograph, better to knit a scarf than nitpick at yourself for no reason. Anyone that laughs and/or calls you ugly can spin on your middle finger, that’s what it is best used for!

I nearly choked on my own emotion, not for the first time, but this was in a positive way of my own doing to myself. Pondering, perhaps this former ugly duckling has finally seen her own swan-like reflection, and will glide the river of life wherever it is leading her to go. I do not need a mask of chemical colours or a surgeon’s blade to syringe to make me look beautiful; I am me, not an ogre but a swan, and that’s fine with me.

© Fi S. J. Brown

me 2017