I signed up to take part in the Red Matter Group, last week and this blog post is delivering the first challenge… a blog post on “my favourite thing”.
Of course, this should be a doddle. After all you can only have one favourite… However, that’s the problem. Choosing your favourite thing, in your heart of hearts, is just an impossible thing to do. Let me explain…
Over the weekend I took my children to see Kitsch n Sync perform at the Wales Millenium Centre, as part of the Saint David’s Day celebrations there. If you’ve never seen them, please try to. They’re kooky and different and the kind of performers the world needs more of. I’ve seen them perform a few times in Cardiff and twice at Festival Number 6, each time the performance was different, unexpected and left the audiences puzzled and chattering away and / or giggling.
Anyway, I digress, what I wanted to highlight is that my 7 year old daughter, who is a little more self conscious than most, but absolutely loves dancing and performing (as you’ll see below), grasped the nettle and got up and danced. On the day she was the only person (not just child, I hasten to add) to interact with the performers at all. Sure, it took a tad of encouragement from Dad, but at that moment, watching her twirl away, with a Welsh lady wearing a lampshade for a stovepipe, my heart nigh on burst with pride. Here she is.
And at that moment, unquestionably, being there and seeing her go for it, was my favourite thing. It wasn’t though, a few hours earlier, how could it be?
No, a few hours earlier, my favourite thing was 15 mins watching my 4 (and a half Dad, four AND A HALF) year old son getting his hair cut. Once more, there was an element of trying something new; it was an untested / trusted barbers down the road from us. But he was a saint (my son not the barber) and as charming as can be (both!). I love, genuinely LOVE, the opportunity to spend time with my son like this. He used to be sat on my lap to get his hair snipped, but these days he’s up there in the leather seat, albeit with a booster cushion, courteously answering the barber’s questions in pidgin English (his second language) and obeying commands to tilt his head this way and that. It gives me a moment to savour how far he’s come and how, as a parent, sometimes you want to slow time down, because your babies are growing up so quickly. Here he is.
By now, I hope some of you are getting where I’m going with this… a favourite thing is of the moment, it’s how you feel at any given instant. Your favourite thing as a toddler; a tatty old blanket, or a dog-eared teddy, will be anything but your favourite thing as you’re going into primary school and trying to show that you’re a big girl / boy now. You’re favourite song in your tweenage years, will bring a nostalgic flutter to your heart as a married man, but similarly make you wryly grin at how eager you were to be a part of the in / out crowd. Your favourite TV programme will change with each passing season, or series as we should be saying here in Wales, this isn’t New England in every sense, you know. And so on and so forth.
Ultimately, it comes down to being alive and believing that better, “favouriter” things lie ahead… so for me, my favourite thing is life itself, in all it’s finery. For now, anyway…