From sport to butterfly brain….

I’m doing my usual dipping in and out of the Olympics – and my usual gasps of “how do you DO that” as I watch people with talent, skill, and above all dedication! do their thing.

As one who seems to have absolutely no talent for anything physical (though Perfect Pilates teacher says I am good!) I continue to be amazed at what people can do, an even more about the levels of dedication it takes to get to that level of skill and competence.

I’m not sure I can imagine ever being that dedicated to something.

That makes me a little sad.

It feels like an aspect of being human that I am missing out on; not the ability, which is a given or a not given – but the concentration, the capacity to put all one’s attention into one thing, the drive not to be distracted….I’m pretty a much a butterfly when it comes to being focussed.

Which leads me to another poem…it’s sentimental and sugary, and hated by it’s subject. But I so much get it!

Vespers. A A Milne

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that’s right.
Wasn’t it fun in the bath to-night?
The cold’s so cold, and the hot’s so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy – I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny’s dressing-gown on the door.
It’s a beautiful blue, but it hasn’t a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I’m there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said “Bless Daddy,” so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

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