A spin in time
This week I went to the laundrette. It’s only taken me four years to pluck up the courage to go in (how does it work? Where do I pay? Will my naivety be embarrassing?). As with most new things, it’s generally best not to overthink and just do before any thinking sets in.
It felt wonderfully nostalgic, like stepping back in time to some artsy sepia-grain movie set in rainy day Paris (or that early Friends episode where Ross helps Rachel do her laundry for the first time in her new quest for independence - it's one of my faves).
There was a romanticism to coming home from the launderette with glasses dotted from the rain, and hot-to-touch towels tucked under one arm. And, as with most stories of daily life, there really is no more profound point to make here than just to acknowledge the pleasures of existing in community with others: having a chat to the woman with blue hair about the art she did for the launderette in lockdown and hearing about her dog and arthritic knees as the machines turn in the background. I paid with cash, which to this millennial, is pretty much a nostalgic novelty in itself now. All I really needed to make the moment complete - actually, wait…
Perhaps, for once, we don't need to add in order to achieve some idealist’s notion of perfection. Perhaps, perhaps, this moment was perfect, exactly as it was.
(And perhaps, just perhaps, you are too).
Mindful moment: You might think it crazy/surprising to have written about the experience of going to the launderette, but I wanted to make the point that every day experiences can hold more power - and more joy - than we might give them credit for. Things can quickly become routine; novelty wears off and everyday experiences lose their colour and character. We all exist in community, whether we like it or notice it. People are what make life interesting. We don't need to know or like them to notice their patchwork involvement in building the community where we live. So, go out into the world and notice the small interactions with the people you share your town with. Notice the new and the old and find some acceptance in things just being exactly as they are. And, perhaps, notice the launderette you've walked past a million times and pop your head in. If nothing else, it always smells great!
Love, Laura
Quote for the weekend…
“Colour is what feelings look like”
-Loaf
For some reason, I occasionally get the Loaf magazines through the letterbox. I flicked through it on my walk to the recycling bin. (I act like I never got round to unsubscribing, but secretly I suppose I enjoy them: just the right level of frequency; aspirational prices; and there's a kind of British humour to the way they write.) Anyway, they were advertising their new collection of sofas (not an ad, I promise) and they had this wonderful quote which I wrote down immediately: “colour is what feeling looks like”. Amazing!
Mindful moment: If you had to pick a colour for today, what would it be? And what would you like it to be?
Have we met?
Welcome to the Community.
I'm Laura, a yoga teacher and NHS doctor. With this weekly newsletter I aim to help you incorporate mindful moments into your week. I want you to feel inspired, empowered and creative. I promise to always be authentic; to only include content that speaks to me and which, therefore, I hope will do the same for you.
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