on the inside looking out at the outside looking in
...is a bit like living with your twin, with each of you on either side of the door to narnia. one excitedly babbling away about a fairy-tale wonderland and big friendly (slightly enesabekayo) lion, making up rousseau type drawings in the communal headspace we share. the other moaning about a boring old brown cupboard filled with even more boring brown coats and dresses and making grand plans on how to escape it all.
escape was certainly on my mind one wretchedly cold winters day. that and a serious consideration as to whether i had multiple personalities, like Eve.
aside: i cannot for the life of me fathom, why you'd give up romping gloriously naked through rousseaus' garden (could it be narnia after all?) with a fabulously attractive equally naked man for an apple.
i struggled to figure out which twin was looking in and which one was looking out, because, gazing questioningly out the window at the real world, it looked like... well... a
narnia or someplace else?
this looking in and looking out and inside and about, was messing with my head. the concept was one of the three that my writing had wound around for the last ten years. as mostly an introverted person, i spend a lot of time inside myself looking out, and a lot of time reflecting on the outside back in, with the resulting agonising and happy conclusions about the world. it explains why i so carefully shield myself from traumatic movies. not because i live in a bubble, but because i internalise it so much it tears me apart and i'm not ever quite sure how to put myself back together. it also explains why when i find those treasured pockets (pools, oceans) of pure joy, i just dive right in and swim blissfully in it. maybe everyone is like that. maybe not.
in any case, never had it caused me so much consternation as it did now. today i wanted narnia and home. in the same spot at the same time. hence all the heckling and soul-searching.
after much deliberation i came to the hard won conclusion that both twins are different sides of the same coin. sometimes you want joie de vivre, complete with parisian eclairs and flowing scarf; sometimes you want home sweet home with comfy pyjamas a big pot of tea. and whichever side of the looking glass you are on, its all good. narnia and home is the same.
with the first drops of rain rapidly increasing to that drumming tattoo i could feel my mood shrinking to a general level of grumblyness. there was nothing narnia-like about my ever bare pantry and fridge. not even a square of turkish delight.
aside: its my view that had said (insanely delicious yummy) turkish delight been offered to any person, they would have gladly and greedily gone off with the wicked witch.
go away... come again another day
well now! all the languishing about was doing me no good and i could feel both twins turn their backs on me in a sort of mild protest at my lack of creativity, helpfulness and general mopiness. inspiration flared and i hotfooted down to the ridiculously luxurious TWG teashop. here i could soothe my soul and cheer myself up.
the experience was not quite what i expected.
me, determined to bring sunshine to this gloomy day: "may i have a pot of the happiness tea please"
waiter, all wanting to please: "yes of course"
.... five minutes later....
waiter, handing me the enormous menu: "im so sorry, we have run out of the happiness tea"
me with big sad eyes and shaking head, despondent at the thought of having to comb through that daunting tea menu yet again: "oh. oh dear. oh no."
waiter interrupting my flailing into despair: "but we do have the double happiness tea"
even unicorns don't have it so good
double happiness flower tea
on the inside looking out at the outside looking in, never looked so pretty. it was a teapot-full of pure joy and i just dived right in