Less Than A Grain Of Sand

A pregnant me from June 2008 at my favourite beach, Whitby in North Yorkshire (UK). In and amongst many other grains of sand.

I began this blog to talk mostly about my exciting adventures into the world of writing.

I’m not a great writer or a great anything truth be told. I’m very mediocre.

I’m not fishing for compliments either – I have a solid idea of my self worth and that’s actually okay.

I am less talented and interesting than the next person. It’s true. If you saw me in the street you wouldn’t look twice and if you picked up my stories or poems from amongst a batch of others, you would not deign to give it more than a cursory glance.

That’s fine too.

I understand that in relation to the rest of the cosmos, I am less than a grain of sand. Some people are boulders, I am not.

I am important though, to a few other grains of sand around me and that, I guess, makes me part of a pebble. Then I become, ultimately, something substantial and noticeable. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts and all that.

I’m important to my husband and my daughters. I am important to my Dad, step mum, Nan, brother, niece, nephew and my mother in law and father in law. I feel loved and that is a wonderful, beautiful thing. I know that I am never going to set the world alight with my wit and wisdom, nor am I going to rock your world with mind enhancing prose. I am, however, going to at least make my beautiful husband and daughters proud, if not the others. That, for me, is the most important thing about my existence.

Sometimes you are worth more by belonging to others than just on your own. Each grain of sand can come together to equal something great.

I don’t even mean make them proud by my writing – fame and glory are not within my grasp, even if they were it they would not serve as something I would find remotely enticing. I mean, make them proud by being a good human being. Being a good mother and wife. I will fail at times, but I’m just a person like everyone else: beautifully and fatally flawed.

I realise I am being sentimental here and perhaps just a smidgeon of self indulgent, but I suppose it’s important to have no illusions of grandeur or believe you figure more highly in the world than you actually are.

I am not worth much, but I am not a bad person. Irritating, moody, stubborn, opinionated and petulant at times, but bad? No. I think that makes the project that is me worth it in the end.

Aside over. What say we get back to business?


8 Comments Add yours

  1. Laura says:

    I know how you feel! Looking at the night sky for instance…man what am I doing here on Earth worrying about too little sleep when there are things exploding and spinning and freezing and burning and expanding and contracting for infinity out there! Ahhh!
    And for what it’s worth Anything that I’ve ever read of yours is always well and beautifully written.

  2. Cat says:

    Laura – you always make me smile whenever I read what you either blogged or commented. It is a bit metaphysical, but its grand to have some perspective on life, the universe and everything 🙂

  3. Neeks says:

    I enjoyed your post, you have a very eloquent way of stating your feelings. I agree with the lad in GCSE English, keep writing!

  4. 4amWriter says:

    Beautiful post, Cat. Something I needed to read, actually, as things on my end have not gone swimmingly. It’s good to be reminded that all we are is part of something, in the end, and we make of it what we make of it.

  5. Him Up North says:

    Blown away! One of the best blog posts I’ve read in a long time. Self examining but not self indulgent. Pragmatic and yet heartfelt. Love it.

  6. Cat says:

    Oooh, thank you so much for your lovely comments people! So glad that you read it and commented. Tis’ much appreciated 🙂

  7. tjm says:

    Fantastic if this is not talent I don’t know what is!

    1. Cat says:

      Shucks, thank you! x

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