This past week I attended the London Writers’ Salon monthly social, hosted by Lindsey. There were three beautiful prompts we wrote to during that time. One left me with this next instalment’s bones. Here it is in an as-polished-as-can-be form for you.
A time I experienced wonder was:
Tension. There’s always tension. Whether there is laughter to soften it, or not, the tension exists when the three of them are together. One of them is a very-vocal-know-it-all, another is a grump-without-a-drink-so-mostly-always-drunk and the third is a superiority-complex-I-work-on-myself-therefore-I-am-above-all-this-even-though-I-am-often-the-worst-offender. One of these people is me.
On this night, as if young children again, the plan was proposed by the one who often offers an idea to mix up the monotony. That plan was to watch the full moon rise over the ocean. Another one of them reluctantly tagged along, presumably mostly out of boredom and potentially the fear of having to make one-on-one conversation with the mother/grandmother by hanging back. The third of them is always up for anything involving the moon, so they were in.
One reverted to a childlike state in the others’ presence, just like the two bickering siblings who had tried to get the last word in for several days straight. For two days they had paused only to make the other laugh which was a contest in and of itself. When one went to shower or sleep, that is when the third would get roped in, willingly. However, at the same time, they were now all adults — equals of some sort — their own person. One slid on their olive green rubber sandals and as if it was their idea, led the way across the manicured grass of the golf course. The not-so-subtleness of their being ahead reflected, internally, that of their distinction. On this lonely walk, they would think about how being the one to do the work and break the chain, would work a lot better if they put as much energy into the work, as they did indirectly making sure everyone knew about it.
The golf course was abandoned, the dusk meant everyone was done for the day. While being the leader, the sandal-wearing stride essentially said “I am making sure this is actually happening and not just talk, thank you very much” and as a result, they isolated themself from the conversation a few steps behind. They were several unfair thoughts and three paces too fast to join in. Up over mounds and avoiding sandy bunkers, they made their way towards the edge of the cliff, where the ocean said hello. Being the first to see the ocean gave them a sense of entitlement, taking their connection with nature and using it as a prize only they knew about.
Mauve and grey cautiously angry clouds covered the sky, hinting at rain on the ocean’s blurry surface. The water crashing below filled the distance and echoed to remove any emptiness and drowned out the ringing in their ears. The surf club to their right flashed an artificial light they wished wasn’t there, interrupting their view of the shoreline that wrapped around and out of sight, made up of large climbs and huddled trees.
They bet on it. On the moon rising. They bet on this magical experience, a full moon, soon to creep up over the horizon — orange they hoped — and fill the sky with wonder. They turned it into another competition. They decided whoever saw it first, the other two did the dishes.
One of them decided. One of them suggested this, in the hopes another one of them, in particular, would lose, their intoxication likely to mean they had the slowest reaction time, and be forced to do the dishes for once. The sober instigator, the one who had neglected their program and quickly become a dry drunk over the course of a few weeks, was sure to win. In doing so, they would be able to take a night off. They could then be very vocal about the fact it was their first and last night off, ensuring everyone knew just how much they did around the house.
They don’t remember what they spoke about. They don’t know if it was about Nan waiting at home, or the sky, or the weather, or their day, or their dinner, or Pop being in hospital… but in the anticipation of the moon’s arrival, and the sight that would surely sweep them all off their feet and leave them speechless with its beauty, they missed the real wonder happening right then.
In the time it took for the moon to appear, in the waiting for what would surely be a wondrous occasion, they stood there, chatting, sharing common grief and common understanding. In the time it took for the golden glow to appear, they got along, laughing at how the moon first had to peak out over the ocean undetected, and then break through the clouds before they would see it. No grumpiness, no lecturing, no feelings of being better than the other. They held each other in that space. Once they were satisfied with the view — and their break from reality — and the moon slipped behind clouds again, the leader once more guided the way through the dark. They held their phone as a flashlight, making sure the others were safely just behind them. When they got home, one of them washed, the other dried, and the other put the dishes away.
Lovely reader, when was a time you experienced wonder?
I spend many hours a week writing, recording and preparing these love letters for you and it brings me so much joy. I want these to always be free so in order to support my work and keep these coming at no cost, you can:
🧡 forward it to just one friend! just one! telling them you love it, and you think they will too! or share it on your social media if you’re feeling super generous!
🧡 leave a comment on this post telling me what you think of this volume!
🧡 join the hi, lauren deborah! chat, another free space for fun and silly conversations! you can now access it through your desktop so you don’t need the substack app to join in on silly conversations discussing things like this:
here are three things I struggled with this week:
📅 Keeping my word. AKA making plans with good intentions and then realising I have absolutely overdone it and overbooked myself and something has to give.
✂️ Finally got to see my favourite barber ever. Reunited and it feels so good. And now I have imposter syndrome over whether the very cool haircut is actually being pulled off by me. (Not fishing for compliments, just acknowledging my feelings and this very good cut.)
🦜 Finding the right time to say the necessary thing.
here are three blessings from this week:
🌞 SUNSHINE!
💤 More adults should plan giant sleepovers with the girls for their birthdays. That’s exactly what my pal did on the weekend and it was the best.
🫵 YOU! Lovely reader/commenter/subscriber… you have made my week exceptional because writing to you keeps my creativity alive. Thank you for being here.
here are three goals for the coming week:
💟 Trust my intuition.
❌ I’ve been on a huge unsubscribe binge lately… it was wild how many I had and amazing how free my time and energy are becoming when I open my inbox daily and see the massive difference. More of this, and hanging onto zero guilt about it, too because you only have so much time.
💥 Roll with the incredible but not-at-all surprising breakthroughs I am making going to a meeting every damn day. Ahem, it works if you work it.
here is something I enjoyed this week:
NEW MEDITATION APP ALERT! Insight Timer is FREE! And there are TONNES of yoga classes, mediations, soundscapes and sleep stories!
I am very happy with it (and have been using both the app and on my desktop).
pics or it didn’t happen:
I love you. I’m so grateful to those who read my substack 🧡 because I really love writing it to you.
LD
xoxo
Hmm...the good kind of wonder... It seems to hard to grasp most of the time.
But here's just a short moment.
Cuddles and I managed a trip to Greece, for our honeymoon. The first holiday we'd managed to take together (money is hard when you have none).
On one of the earliest days, we were heading down a street, probably on the way to the beach or the store, and I realised we were walking past a bunch of honeysuckle.
Years back, in the early 00s, I lived in LA with my then-gf, and right on the corner of the street was honeysuckle. She taught me how to pick it and bring out the tiny drop of sweet nectar from the central stem, and taste it.
It had been many years since I'd done that, so I got all excited, and I stopped Cuddles and picked a flower, bringing out that tiny drop of nectar for her to taste.
Wonder here is twofold. The first was just her reaction to this unexpected sweetness from a flower.
The second is that she trusts me like no other - like most new things (including travelling to Greece in the first place), she wouldn't have tried that for anyone else.
I feel wonder, at this kind of trust in me, every time she shows it.
I loved loved loved this chapter. 🧡