Do you ever wonder if there is something else going on, something a little bigger than us? Maybe an administration department in the sky, typing away scenes and chapters of our lives like the scrip of a TV sitcom.
Sometimes, things happen and its as if the invisible guardian angels are demanding attention. Just a little, but enough to keep the belief alive.
Today, something that felt just like this happened to me. If you have read my past blog ‘a colourific casting’ in which I go on a jolly jaunt with photographer David Long to have lots of poesy pictures taken. I round off the event with a link to The Stone Roses ‘she’s like a rainbow’ . (Important, remember that track title).
This morning at 8:30am I’m clumsily removing my coat in work and without going too deep in to a grey hole of sucky reasons why I’m not happy in my current job role, lets just say I was less than impresses to be there. As I slip my mobile from my pocket to my draw I notice a little whatsapp message symbol,
“Congratz you are a published model. Elements magazine just came out featuring Manchester’s prettiest mother.” with a link to an entire magazine full of gorgeous glossy bold photos, and there was my ugly mug, right in between it all. David had submitted a selection of photos from the shoot and Ellements magazine had decided to use them. My face is in print all the way over there in that New York… Noo Yawk! Cupa cawfee? ferget abowdit! New York! Ever had a feeling that starts as ball of warm energy in your stomach and then works it’s way up through your body growing larger and larger, radiating happiness until it reaches your chest and then spins in to overdrive causing tiny electrical sparks of tingling adrenalin through your limbs and your cheeks turn pink? Well.. that! I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my big cheesy grin as my inner voice shouts “oh, my, gosh, how, miiiiint!!” Then I hear a piano ‘da da da dee da dee da…’ As the Rolling Stones ‘she’s like a rainbow’ takes over the airwaves of BBC radio two and fills my tiny dull office with bright summer coloured happy vibes.
Explain that! How often is that 1967 track on the radio? I’m subjected to this station every working day and have been for six years. I can’t think of an instance its been played and even if it had, for it to start at such a specific moment, is just too perfect for me to chose to dismiss it as coincidence. It turned my entire day in to sunshine and nothing could spoil it, the grey clouds were banished.
I’m not as beautiful as the others, but I’m in 🙂
I have a hand full of other examples, but i’m going to use just two. In 2010 my fiancée and I were giddy planning our wedding. I was obviously delirious during this period and slightly mental as I think most women would be when a stunningly handsome man seems to think it a wise idea to tie themselves into a lifetime contract a somewhat cuckoo lady. I kept singing dodgy love songs and sending him ‘mix tapes’ on memory sticks. One of the songs being ‘signed sealed delivered’ by Stevie Wonder….. I’ll give you three guesses where this story is going.
On a cold Thursday afternoon myself and my husband to be went hand in hand to register our intent to marry. During the car journey and in between kisses in a wooden panelled waiting room, we kept breaking out in to the chorus of said Stevie song and it was decided we’d have it played in the church for our guests to fill the quietness as we signed the register.
Leaving the registry office it was raining puppies and kittens so we sprinted into a bar opposite Manchester town hall to toast our big step together. We made our self comfortable in the leather seats and as as our tall fizzing drinks arrived guess what came over the speakers? Mr Blooming Wonder. Honestly, we had our own personal soundtrack going on, this was a movie and we were the stars, is that not just too sweet to dismiss?
A handful of months ago I was debating whether or not to take a trip to Oxford, (see Blog ‘most of my friends were strangers when i met them – to quote Bros’). The person I was going to meet up with was quite the Ryan Adams enthusiast, a singer I had never paid any mind to.
I decided to visit Salford quays for the day to walk by the canal side and clear my mind. I sat at a bench for a while with nothing much in sight.
What I can only describe as a busker came along, set up his pitch and broke in to ‘come pick me up’ by (the now obvious) Ryan Adams. He had a mouth organ the lot, now come on! What the literal eff?! Does anyone even like that song? What I mean is why would he chose something so obscure to generate attention? I did stand and stare hard into his face for a few seconds in case it was some bizarre set up but no, he was oblivious to me. I booked a train moments later to the home of Inspector Morse probably solely because of that guy in the worn shoes and long rain coat playing his guitar in the cold.
That’s gold isn’t it? In this world of unordered chaos, it has it’s moments of pure unexplainable beauty.
Good work angels.