Everywhere I go at the moment, people are saying how awful and terrible things are.
But wherever I go in Sydney, objectively, things are peaceful and calm. My son and I had ice cream at Chatswood the other night and it was buzzing. A few weeks ago, I took the day off work and had lunch with mum, dad and a friend in town, and then walked around — in the rain, to the State library—and documented what I saw in my diary. The people watching was brilliant and the wet city felt so romantic. Earlier this week, I came across an amazing slug—it is called the Red Triangle, and is Australia’s largest native slug! (See pic).
I always talk to random people and everybody is so friendly. I sat in a cafe the other day and had a vibrant chat with a retired school teacher. I got blood drawn at Hanly Moir and the lady who did it was really funny; the receptionist had groovy love-heart shaped glasses and she laughed that people always talk about them. Our local pharmacist, always standing on his front porch, waved and we chatted about how the Sydney sky was such a brilliant blue. I walked past some public tennis courts and listened to people exhilarated in the aftermath of a good rally; an older man nearby was playing harmonica.
I am not a Pollyanna. I am a bit scared. I know there are a lot of beyond belief evil things happening, people are struggling with poverty and we are really feeling the effects of the billionaires pushing their agendas that are breaking our social contracts. I am also an incredibly lucky person. But by getting off the internet and just walking around Sydney and talking to people, I really feel how incredible life is.
Personally, I am trying to push more against this “other world” on the screen, this other not-so-great alternative reality that seems to be overtaking the wonderful one that I touch, smell, hear, see and get to really be in everyday. It sounds corny, but for me, reconnecting with ordinary reality feels like the best antidote at the moment and a path to something better.
(Ironically, this is written via a screen. It’s a shame I can’t get all my wonderful friends together for a hang in the park with the harmonica player or go red triangle slug spotting!)
