This I Believe
(about 450 words)
I believe in Angelica. Angelica is not a horse or a Hallmark card or a DVD. This is not a thing to be deconstructed, dissected, analysed. Angelica is a wind. No, it is a gentle breeze, a breeze that rises up into a mighty wind, sweeping things out, and sweeping things in.
Angelica is a force of nature. It rushes in when you are humming down life’s long highway, waves bursting into white foam on one side, lush green rolling hills on the other, the sky above dotted with black and white clouds, the sun shining brightly but the pale moon visible, too, and you are humming down a highway so smooth and well thought out and utterly dull that you’ve become numb, and all at once this gust, this sea-wind, this Angelica storms in, and you are spinning on your roof, dazed but unhurt.
Your ears still ringing, your eyes blurred, there is a sudden roar and then you are travelling upright again, only now heading towards the sea or into the green hills or going north instead of south or east rather than west or up towards a sky dabbed with clouds of black and white.
Angelica buffets you. It is like being beaten by delicate eyelashes — a delightful but disconcerting sensation. But it is a pleasing feeling.
And suddenly you find yourself drinking green tea out of Japanese clay pots, reading – and liking – Russian poetry, nibbling dark French chocolate and watching Kurosawa films.
Quickly it becomes meaningless where you were driving or for how long or even why. All that matters is that there is a tender wind called Angelica swirling next to you in the passenger’s seat, or sometimes in the driver’s seat. And you are not alone.
Oh, but the winds still rage, and storm clouds darken the sky, and white clouds stand out against a backdrop of deep blue, and the moon and the sun still rise and fall. But you are no longer alone.
This I believe: that Angelica, this it or he or she or horse or DVD can be present in all of our lives if we are willing to be swept away, willing to be tossed into new directions, new life-adventures, willing to allow ourselves to be challenged and delighted and enchanted.
And for me, when I say I believe in Angelica all I am saying is that I believe in the forces of nature, in the end to dull routine, a finish to the expected and the mundane. But also that I believe in chocolate and green tea and poetry. I believe in a storm-wind called Angelica, and this means, quite simply, that I believe in love.
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