A New Cake of Soap

Sometimes I am taken by surprise by the small moments that bring such pleasure and with it eternal gratefulness for what I have rather than focusing on what I haven’t got.

 Yesterday I discovered my son had put a new cake of soap in the shower. That alone was reason enough for celebration.

 But as I used that soap I was celebrating the simple pleasure a new cake of soap brings.

 After using the last cake down to its slippery sliding breaking bits of annoyingness, the pleasure my hand experiences just holding the shape of a new bar is bliss.

 And never does soap smell as good as that first time it’s used. Mmmmmm!

 Not to mention how easy it is to use. Even if you do drop it its easy to pick up unlike that slip of a thing I was using the day before. Nor do bits get stuck just waiting for the sixer I’m doomed at forty-seven to have one day.

 And as usual I am grateful for the water, for where I was born that allows these moments despite being a drought ridden country.

 So next time your feeling grumpy, though I’m sure you have every right to be, have a shower with a new cake of soap.

 And enjoy!

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2 thoughts on “A New Cake of Soap

  1. ta Jonathan. Joy really is accessible even when things are going wrong, particularly in our countries.

    There are times when ‘big stuff’ can suck for all of us but I have learnt that we only have to…how did Oscar put it… something about even in the gutter one can look up at the stars.

    Some therapists (not that I’m one anymore)love personal mantras and such stuff but having recovered from some crap myself in my younger years I know we don’t actually have to try that hard…or frankly bullshit ourselves…because, at least in affluent countries we have real pleasures, real moments of bliss available to all of us.

    A year or so before I quit psych I was helping a guy who was overwhelmed by some massive challenges and as a result suffering from terrifying panic attacks.

    Anxiety & panic had been my specialty for ten years and I was working with him so we could understand and get rid of this disorder.

    One day I arrived at his flat to find him on the floor, sweating pale frightened. The poor man was in the grip of a major panic attack, convinced it was a heart attack and his pulse was flying accordingly. I knew rationality was impossible to grasp when the body is in the grip of fight and flight, so all I could do was to continually and clearly reassure “I won’t let you die…look at the tree” (it was right outside is lounge room and glorious).

    The only mantra being used was me chanting look at the tree until it got through and he actually looked at it. Then I started pointing out its beauty to him in tiny detail, wondered at what creatures from microscopic to large lived within this amazing Morton Bay Fig, even wounded if the tip of the branches knew they reached for the sky.

    Slowly everything calmed and we were able to talk. He’d got a letter…just another bit of doom in his current reality… and his mind had panicked.

    Of course it helped having another human being there to assist in adjusting his focus but the point is the tree is always there. As is the sky, the clouds, this beautiful planet that changes color all day…and that’s just there for us to place our feet on each morning. He also admitted that when he thought he was having a heart attack he wondered why the heck I wanted him to look at the tree :).

    I think it is so important, and I don’t believe this is a ‘optimistic view’ as I sometimes cop, it is so important to give as much focus to the…oh bloody-hell I hate this word but…’blessings’ as we give to the things that suck. On a daily basis.

    Not bullshitting ourselves but also not taking for granted the thousands of real, cool ‘little things’ that surround us every moment.

    And now I must go clean up my ferret, Nibble’s poo. Cause that’s real too :).

    (I think I might expand and post this…thanks for the inspiration Jon!)

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