Unexpected healing
Recently, I’ve thought about the presence and absence of beautiful things, and the way we notice if they are there or not. The first time I had this thought, I saw someone in a crowd who reminded me of my younger cousin. I was in a period where I was having pretty bad anxiety, and when I saw the girl who reminded me of her, I was reminded of her young and carefree expressions. I thought: How beautiful it must be to not carry the world’s next step on your shoulders. Ignorance truly is bliss.
Another instance, with deeper roots, was when I was in conversation with a very special and close friend who has a 10-year-old daughter. He often tells me about how inspiring she is, how proud he is of her and how he adores her. It is easy to see that he is a loving father, he would walk to the ends of the world for that girl. Again, I thought: How divine it must be to be so utterly loved by your father, all his actions and words building you a larger and larger throne.
My question is: Are they aware? Or does awareness come with the absence of these things, and to be able to witness the contrast when it returns?
I’ve thought about this when it comes to parental love; being loved unconditionally feels absolutely normal. Mundane. Ordinary. Nagging about homework and broccoli. Bedtimes, toothbrush, curfew. I sometimes observe children with their parents in loving situations, and what I see on their faces is not extreme excitement that their parents care. That they took time to spend time together. That they hold them close and console them when they fall and hurt their knees. What I see is ease, safety and peace. It’s completely normal and natural.
I find it so interesting how the absence of love is so large, but its presence so small. I guess it is because withholding these things, like air and food, makes it hard to survive. But few of us feel how amazing it is to breathe, unless we weren’t able to for a while.
I am so happy for the children I see walking around in shoes too big, their parents running after them to make sure they don’t get too close to traffic. I see calm expressions on their faces. They are more concerned with having ice cream before dinner than anything else.
I am so happy to know that my friend’s daughter feels loved and celebrated, him showing up to watch every performance of her dance shows. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he said.
It heals me a little.
Or a lot.
Pernille