Wednesday, 20 June 2012
People are Beautiful
I walked past a man in the street earlier on.
Looked at his beautiful face, adorned with wrinkles and crowned with wizened, grey hair.
As I crossed the road to the post box, I thought about how beautiful his story would be if I asked him.
How many billions of beautiful stories are there out there that I'll never know about?
Maybe I should have asked him about his life.
At the post box, I posted the birthday card I'd made for my beautiful dad. He's got a beautiful laugh and is a seasoned expert at telling stories, true or fabled. Beautiful.
On the way back from the post box, I popped into the shop and got a gift of Coke Zero for Anna, one of my beautiful housemates. I wanted to say thanks for all the hard work she puts in at home, in lots of different, beautiful ways.
You know sometimes you can look up at the sky and be wowed by its overwhelming beauty, and yet realise how long its been since you last looked up? It's a bit like that today. Nothing different about the day, really; guess I've just had a looking-up moment, realising again how beautiful people are. All the people around me; all the people everywhere.
I must keep looking up.
A middle-aged man with glasses just cycled past my window with a toddler on the back of his bike. Someone else just pulled out of their drive opposite. Someone just ran down the stairs behind me. Beautiful, beautiful people everywhere.