grand/little gestures

This is my 1000th blog that I've written - there are 7 that remain withdrawn or unpublished.  That's quite a lot of sharing.

Sometimes I worry I'm wasting my life/talents and fear I'm not amounting to much. Delighted as I was to read about my former boss on Pip's blog, it once again had me mulling how I'm not a CEO, I'm on a starter salary, and I don't feel I have a whole lot to write home about in terms of achievements of late.
And yet I know my CV isn't what counts.
I know it's not the job title, the big gestures.
It's the text I send to show I'm thinking of someone. The smile. Every attempt at parenting well, every attempt at reaching out to friend or stranger.

Tonight for some inexplicable reason the most important thing I had to do was locate my old photos. I really wanted to find one of me from my tie-and-waistcoat days. I had such a lovely silk waistcoat, I can't believe I don't still have it now (I seem to have most of my other clothes that I was wearing in those pics from 20 years back!!). Sadly I can't find a photo at all of that. But here are some others. Firstly smiling despite having chopped off the tip of my thumb one Christmas eve. Pets make everything bearable, I was so so sad when Peanuts, the cat in the pic, died. Then there are pics on my 12th birthday, then as a teenager - I don't know why it is cut out but I'd forgotten about the 'don't worry be happy' top. There's one of me in the room I had in halls when I first went to uni,  and another in another hat - I wore a lot of hats as a student.  Finally (tho not currently in the right order, that will have to wait til I'm back on my computer not phone) another from the pre-children box, of me in one of my favourite places. I've only been once but totally loved it, the roof of gaudi's perdera in Barcelona.

And so I'm reminded again of the seasons of love song as to how our lives are measured - and it's not usually by our careers.