What would we be talking about if you were here for tea?
Maybe the weather; probably last night’s sleep; tea, for sure.
But what would you want to be talking about? Yourself? Your life? Maybe. Probably. For sure.
Because that is what we do:
we human beings speak about ourselves and our dreams and our work and our bodies which are growing old and starting to fail us.
That is what we do: speak about how we fail ourselves.
But never ever bluntly, no.
We will always blame the system, time, our parents or the neighbours or the weather, never ourselves.
There is always some hindrance, some sabotage from our families or co-workers.
Without them, left to our own devices, we would be magnificent!
But is that so? Do you really believe this?
Deep inside your heart and soul you know the truth:
no one else but yourself tries to stop you from being magnificent.
The stars in the sky on the day of your birth twinkled and smiled benevolently, like they do.
Your family arranged for you to be a part of it, in its unique way, as they do.
School swallowed you, making you part of the crowd, as it does.
Maybe work tried to do the same with you but ground to a reluctant halt, because you are a diamond, a diminutive diamond in the cogs of the big machine. As one is.
And now it’s their fault.
Maybe, probably, for sure the problem lies in the incompatibility of the diamond and the cogs.
But blaming? Oh, stop it. There is no one to blame.
Putting a tiger on the pasture and wondering why it doesn’t graze?
Can you blame the tiger?
Can you blame the pasture?
Can you blame yourself for trying?
Well… (Here should probably follow a discourse about the nondeterministic character of our universe and the lack of a Machiavellian entity plotting our failures and doom. But I can’t be bothered.)
So, what would we be talking about if you were here?
Maybe the weather; probably last night’s sleep; life, for sure.
But would we be speaking about how we fail ourselves?
Would we be blaming the world for our failures?
Oh, I shouldn’t think so!
I should like to talk with you about the many ways in which the diamond could be magnificent, far away from the machine and its cogs.
I should very much like to hear about you.
About how you are when you are alone with yourself.
I should like to hear your reasons for getting up whenever you get up.
I should like to hear what makes your soul sing.
I should like to hear what makes your soul weep.
I should like to hear about those ideas you shy away from addressing because you fear their ability to change your life completely. (And rightly so! But what is not to love about change?)
I should very much like to hear those dreams, whose non-realisation you used to blame on the world.
Maybe they are rubbish; probably they are great; worth a good think, for sure.
So, when are you coming over so we can talk?
You know you’re always welcome, right?
Just let me know in good time so that I have tea and pastries for you.
I will put the kettle on in time, and we call it “tea and talk”.
Looking forward to it!