I think a lot. About life. About people. About connection and loneliness. Some mornings, like the Saturday just gone, I wake up with full on conversations streaming through my mind. That morning, my head talk pointed out that despite my blog being titled A Glorious Mess, sometimes I get bogged down in the mess and forget to look for the glory.
I agreed with my mind. Eight years after my brain surgery, I still get tired easily trudging through the mire of everyday life and work, let alone with the added busyness of writing a book and preparing submissions for competitions. Some days, I’m snoring on the couch by 7:30 pm, having achieved nothing other than routine stuff.
That particular Saturday, I woke full of energy. I enjoyed my singing lesson. I loved going from there to my poetry class and finally being able to tell others in the group that I’d won an award in the Grieve 2024 competition. As always, I appreciated the natural beauty of the Joondalup ECU campus as I wandered through the gardens to get to the writer’s cottage and back to my car.
But when I got home, I had to clean the house so my son’s support worker would have a safe environment in which to do his thing. It’s been a very full term, and the house reflected my distraction and busyness. When the support worker arrived, I headed off to the shops for stuff I needed, none of which was in the same store or even the same section of the shopping centre. I’d accidentally ruined my new favourite top with bleach splatters that I didn’t notice until they turned parts of my black blouse orange, so I needed to find a replacement. When I found one, I bought a couple more in the same size, style and colour, just in case.
Next, I had to find plastic page protectors. I have a collection of poems I started composing when I was thirteen, which I keep in a couple of folders. I realised recently that I hadn’t printed any out for a couple of years and wanted to rectify that lack in case of computer failure, but I didn’t have any plastic sleeves to keep them safe. I found some in Kmart, along with a few other things I’m sure I needed.
As I collected my goodies, I realised that, as usual, I’d forgotten my carry bag. My car’s back seat is full of them, but I rarely remember to bring one into the shop. Instead, I bought a paper bag and filled it with my purchases.
Hubby had accompanied me to the shopping centre and wanted to cruise through ALDI before we went home. He stopped to get a trolley while I entered the store, heading to the Specials section for a browse. By the time I’d gone up one side and down the next, I was tired. My feet were dragging. The bag seemed to get heavier. Suddenly, the handle pulled away from the paper bag, and everything inside fell on the floor. All I could do was shake my head and release a heavy sigh.
As I stood there surveying the mess, working out what to do, I heard a derisive snort. I turned and saw a staff member looking my way, shaking his head. Instead of helping me, he turned and walked off. Feeling defeated, humiliated and more than a little angry, I picked up my stuff and tried to shove it back into the bag, which kept ripping. Finally, I rolled up what was left of the bag, shoved it under my arm and started to trudge away.
Then I heard, “Ma’am… Ma’am.” The same young man who had laughed was now approaching me, holding a new paper bag. “Please,” he offered, “Put everything in here.”
Relief flooded my entire being. He hadn’t dismissed me; he had left to find a solution. I told him I thought he was laughing at my situation. He responded that he only reacted to something he sees regularly because paper bags often rip open. To him, it was more ‘Here we go again’ than ‘Sucked in, lady’. My spirits instantly lifted, and my early morning thoughts (Find the glory in the mess) floated through my mind.
I thanked the young man. I tracked down the store manager and told him his staff were kind. And then I wrote this to let others know wonderful things are still out there, even if sometimes it takes falling apart to notice them.
A Glorious Mess 