I look at our small garden sometimes and feel nothing but disappointment for the lack of space. You couldn't swing a mouse let alone a cat, although a few frogs have learned to fly into next doors pond, courtesy of himself. I feel sorry that the kids don't have room to run around and that when we have people over it's like playing musical chairs. We always meant to move to something bigger but just never managed to time the economic situation in our favour. Hey-ho. You have to grow where your planted, as my mum used to say.
My sister and her husband came to visit recently. They are newly married and the wedding was a blast. They brought the photos on the lap top and we spent what turned out to be, a real party of a night, laughing, joking and watching the sun go down. As it got dark, the little stick lights around the edge of the garden came on. My sister and I spent time catching up whilst her husband showed her son how to play the guitar.
After the wedding, they'd been on whistle stop tour of Ireland in their flash, new Motor home. The photos said it all. They must have gone to every Diddly-Dee pub in the land and drunk Guinness until they couldn't stand up. They met some fantastic people who were more than willing to join in the celebrations and best of all, they never had far to stagger before they found their bed.
Since having the van they never seem to be at home but are always out experiencing everything that life has to offer. Walking, climbing, cycling and scaling mountains just to look at the view. They are not wealthy. Just ordinary people leading extra-ordinary lives, risking fear for the thrill of adventure, saying yes when so many of us might say no and reaping the rewards because of daring to do so. You can understand why we might feel a little envious of their lifestyle but acknowledge that they have made this happen. No-one did it for them. There is a world out there to be experienced and I for one feel empowered by their energy.
Our small, dis-functional back yard was transformed that night by friendship, music and laughter. What to me had always been a regret, to them was ideal, manageable and pleasant to be in. There was an enchantment about the place which I had forgotten existed. Instead of valuing what we have I had lamented for the things that we didn't. So often what we're truly looking for is staring us in the face and it's only when we alter our perception that our vision then becomes clear.