Yesterday. Before the whipping storm arrived, there was a tiny moment where Lucy and I enjoyed a little clement space. Just the two of us, without interjection or intrusion. A bit of lunch – I cooked a nostalgic pot of ‘muichoy’ (a kind of salted preserved Chinese vegetable) soy sauce pork belly with tofu. A spot of tea – ginger and lemongrass. A chunk of fruitcake – Coles brand $3.50, not particularly lofty but good enough for the situation. There was some sunshine for awhile, but then the sun disappeared into the rolling heavy clouds. The air was still and thick, and my legs were aching from the humidity, but the moment in space and time was ours to savour, and we did just that.
Clement space is about grace and gentle tranquility, recalibrating and realigning mental and sensory wellness. Inhaling without fear of foul smells punctuating the atmosphere, exhaling languidly and yet purposefully. No need for yakkity-yak, words are spurious disturbances in this pristine landscape of symbiosis.
Lovely. Two blessed hours. Until dismantled by benign neurotypical trespass – yakkity yakkity yak yak yak blabber blubber bloobity blobbing wordful transmissions of pollution into the genteel elemental atmosphere. Ah well, c’est la vie, we can’t have everything, can we? Thankful. It was so lovely while it lasted.
The clouds unleashed a storm thereafter.