Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER
The first time I saw this little boy was the only time. The memory of his face rests close to mind, ready for retrieval.
At the time I was looking for new sights, sounds and smells trying to regale a once animated but now indifferent self. I was like a hollow shell which held no sounds of the ocean when held to an ear. Like a ragged husk with spindly legs which moved in a regular, yet stagnant, habitual momentum to a barely beating, died in the arse heart. Travelling life’s currents and tides aimlessly, unrecognisable amongst the floating plastic debris of humanity. Bitterness had been bleached to a void, but the sadness lingered, worn as a heavy, drenched, oversized coat. Dismal at best.
I was god knows where, just another strange place which held little attraction, other than, there were more sounds of nature than that of people. Solace in nature is what I longed for. I had walked for miles before encountering the small village. With no desire to connect I kept moving, my gazed fixed upon the path ahead.
For some reason my eyes rested upon a child. Instinctively I felt there was a rarity here which set him apart. Upon seeing me a huge smile expanded his peach like face surrounding his shining eyes with crinkling lines. His spontaneous eruption of happiness caught me off guard and I found myself smiling back.
He threw his head back and cackled at some secret jest, his laughter echoed around me and tickled the sky. Tears of laughter rolled down his rosy cheeks and drops fell from clouds above which rumbled and quivered like a huge, cuddly belly racked with mirth. He laughed on, tummy held tight by chubby hands. Rain fell, droplets heavy upon the crown of my head, slam, slamming, slamming. I stood motionless, smiling at the boy, strangely mesmerised. The rain continued slamming into me, pounding, pushing, as if making space for my own laughter to arise. The boy continued to roar, unfettered by any self consciousness and now rolling from side to side. How absurd I thought yet how undeniably contagious it was. I could not help but to join the laughter, escalating to a hilarious pitch at the fact that there was actually nothing to laugh about, other than the joy in watching another laugh.
It wasn’t mine anymore, that husk, the empty shell. His childish spontaneity was not extraordinary of itself but the power of his smile and laughter was. I had felt the honesty and authenticity of his happiness. There were no derogatory overtones, the laughter was an equaliser, a healer of melancholy. A sense of restoration filled my empty heart space.
Happy new year to me! Really? Though it was not new year I recognised the potential for a new beginning and wanted to envelop it wholeheartedly. I began to be fearful the unexpected glimpse of happiness was temporary and the heaviness would return. And then I realised I had a choice in how to perceive things. I no longer wished to feel the weight of the wet coat – the lightness of the laughter was invigorating.
The rain had ceased and caught in the emerging sunlight, water droplets sparkled. “Is that yours, that bag?” I asked as I walked towards a crumpled wet sack on the grass nearby. The child laughed again as the wet bag stood up, shaking the rain from it’s coat. “That’s my dog” he replied, laughing heartily as he danced playfully about dodging the attention of a leaping, but still very wet dog.
unfinished….. time up….Dev’s rule