Christine at Abbey of the Arts has suggested posts about blossoming.
I’m thinking about a very human kind of blossoming: that rearrangement of facial muscles we call a smile.
There are many kinds of smile, of course, some of them phony, but a genuine human smile is a gorgeous blossoming to see.
There’s one checkout worker at my supermarket in whose queue I always try to stand. She looks each customer in the eye, for those few moments of interaction she really acknowledges our human connection. And her smile blooms across her face like the sun rising. It cheers me up for the day.
And think of the way a young child smiles, gappy teeth, eyes wide with delight. It’s impossible to keep from smiling back.
I feel sorry for those people who’ve had loads of cosmetic surgery or Botox and look as if they could never smile again. I treasure my laughter lines, in fact I don’t have enough of them. There’s nothing nicer than to see the corners of someone’s eyes begin to scrunch up with the start of a genuine smile.
Oh yes, smiling is a very special kind of blossoming.
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