The problem with living in a downstairs flat is that there is no upstairs. This may sound obvious, but when you have lived in a house almost all your life, with an upstairs, you tend to forget. Many times I have grabbed my camera to head for the upstairs windows, only to realise that the couple who live up there might, possibly, object to me barging in unannounced every sunset and dawn.
My home is on a roughly east-west axis. Just sufficiently ‘off’ to mean that in summer, I can watch the sun rise from my pillow without needing to move. In winter I see the dawn through the garden doors that are, inevitably, already open for the dog.
Sunsets are a bit more problematic. The curve of the houses in my street and the rooftops opposite my kitchen window block most of my view. I get only the spreading colours as the light fades… which is where the upstairs would have come in handy. A little more height and I could see so much.
Yet, as I stood on the doorstep tonight, watching vivid pink and gold soften the sky, I realised how lucky I am to be able to watch the day begin and end, in glowing colours or beneath a pall of roiling clouds, every single day. City dwellers seldom see much of the skyline and, when work takes me early into town, I miss the dawn as it hides behind the rooftops.
It may be natural to wish for things that are seen, but just out of reach or it may be the way we are conditioned by our society from the earliest age to aspire to ‘something more’. ‘The grass is always greener’ and all that… But all that happens is that in looking beyond what is to what could be, we shift our focus away from the moment in which we stand and fail to appreciate what it offers. Not only that, but we create dissatisfaction for ourselves, a pressure for change for the sake of change and the stress of always chasing an illusive and elusive ‘something’ that we hope will be better than what we have. How often do we truly look at what we have in gratitude, not with some indefinable yearning?
Does it really matter that I see ‘only’ a sky suffused with colour and not the whole sunset? I could change that… a walk to the fields would give me an unobscured view, but it would take time and effort… a commitment and an active choice. Wishing alone will not get me from here to there… but I need do nothing at all to be here and now.
Every day is different, every dawn and dusk offers new wonders… and it does not matter at all where I am or where I stand. It matters only that I look up and see it as it happens.
This is very compelling, Sue.
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Thanks, Robbie. It is so easy to wish for more and forget the gift of what we have.
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Acceptance is a lovely thing, but not attainable by most people. We moan about all the things we don’t have, yet never seem happy with what we do… Like having an upstairs… my knees would rather we didn’t…
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My knees, I have to say, love the flat 😉
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thank you for sharing, Jaye x
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So true. We are never happy with our lot. I sometimes wonder if even when dead we don’t complain that the coffin was the wrong choice or the urn the wrong colour. I live in a downstairs flat but I do not miss having stairs to climb. Perhaps I’m over the worse in accepting my lot! Loved the article by the way.
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Thanks, Danny.
I miss the space the house offered… and the guest room… but I don’t miss the stairs or the extra dusting 😉
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Reblogged this on Daniel Kemp and commented:
I really liked this article.
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Lovely post, Sue.
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Thank you.
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My house faces east so I have lovely dawn views but there is steep hill and houses behind mine which obscure sunset. It means that I have to make the effort to walk up the hill to sere it which is no bad thing really.
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The dog would agree…and is more than happy for me to take her walking in the fields to catch the sunset 🙂
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Great reminder, Sue, to help set priorities!
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Sometimes it is the smallest things that matter most, Becky.
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Yes!
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Glorious photos, Sue… Grateful for the wonder of it all!
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Thanks, Bette… me too.
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Reblogged this on Where Genres Collide Traci Kenworth YA Author & Book Blogger and commented:
I’m thinking of getting a camera in the future. Right now, I have my Kindle.
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I love the camera, I have to say, and traipse it everywhere 🙂
Thanks for sharing, Traci. x
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I hope for one in the near future, lol.
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Santa may provide 😉
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Maybe so.
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Reblogged this on France & Vincent.
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Life it keeps a changing doesn’t it. Ironically, I wrote a post on the Grass being greener just last week – lol.
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How I often forget to slow down and look at my surroundings. Your post, Sue, was a perfect reminder to do just that. Your photos are magic! ❤
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Thanks, Carol…we all need reminding now and then 😉
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