This song has been going round and round in my head ever since I heard it sung by Susan Boyle a few weeks ago. I thought she sang it rather beautifully but I do prefer the Lou Reed version. There is something a bit disconcerting about it, which appeals to me – all is not what it seems. I can’t quite put my finger on it but the song has got me mulling over a few issues recently, namely that no matter how happy one is, there is always that irritating niggle at the back of one’s mind that it can’t last; that one tends to dwell on the negative instead of the positive; and that one looks for happiness in all the wrong places. It’s that bloody inner lizard again!
Several of my nearest and dearest and I are having to deal with some changes in our lives right now and some of us are taking way too much notice of our inner lizards as we try to make sense of what life is throwing at us. Martha Beck introduced me to my inner lizard way back when I read her book, Steering by Starlight. I found this article on her website which I hope may shed some light on this creature that interferes with our plans to be happy. You and Your Lizard
By the way, my lizard is called Miss Guttridge, after a particularly mean teacher at high school who always seemed to have a sneer on her face, and stood at the bottom of the stairwell looking up our skirts to check that we were wearing “regulation” knickers (at least, that was her story)!
So, what would constitute a perfect day? I agree with Lou Reed that it is the ordinary things in life that make us happy. It’s simple things that nourish our souls, but unfortunately we tend to get sidetracked into thinking that we need to feed our egos too. To me a perfect day is one that you appreciate when you have it. It doesn’t have to be spectacular; it should just feel right, that you are where you are meant to be and you go to sleep that night with the cockles of your heart well and truly warmed.
Okay, enough of that! I’ve been enjoying watching the birds in my garden, usually when I have my morning cuppa in bed, and I’m starting to recognise the regulars. The pin-tailed whydah (His Nibs) is back dominating the bird feeder; there have been lots of southern red bishops; a few long-tailed widow birds; the francolin floozies with their chicks; a pair of rock pigeons; lots of weavers and cape turtle doves. And most evenings when I’ve taken the dogs for a walk, I’ve spotted a male and female reedbuck on the hill behind my house. She usually disappears as soon as she sees us, but he stands his ground and keeps a wary eye on us.