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The Odd Duck

I just watched THE most amazing movie. We had worked hard all day being very practical. We made some beautifully practical progress.

But while I was being ever so practical - cleaning the bathroom, cooking a chilli casserole, signing up for this, watching videos on how to do that - I was actually writing songs in my head, dreaming of writing... no I'm lying. I was dreaming of BEING a writer. I dreamed of holding published books in my hands.

I dreamed of being a true artist... one that allowed people to see and feel things they never knew they could see or feel but once they did, they knew that had always felt and seen things that way.

I dreamed of talking to a camera in a way that made "them" know, somehow, that this set of words was spoken just for them.

I am 59 for a few more months. I might as well start now.

I don't feel 59 years old. I only feel "me-years-old". And child/woman/mother/daughter/girl me feels like crying. I always come up to this spot... I stand at the door to it all and then I am afraid to step outside. I am such an odd duck. I have always been an odd duck.

Enneagrams are not fortune tellers, but - as much as I hate being labeled - I am glad to have discovered that I am a 4. We are the rarest type. We hate being labeled. But how wonderful to be correctly labeled as rare.

But this movie. This movie made me realize again that I am meant for something. We odd ducks have a calling.

Perhaps I need to take up gardening. I don't know. You'll have to watch the movie to understand how this thought ties in. (No. I'm not going to tell you! That would ruin the movie!)

It's called "This Beautiful Fantastic"

(Special thanks to Simon Aboud.)

I watched it on Amazon Prime. That was so unromantic to write, but even odd ducks need to be practical sometimes, if it will help someone else.

Maybe you won't like the movie. Maybe you won't get it. But if you do...then. Well... good.


Lydia C

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