#7: Notes on the tiny things that keep my faith in humanity
Today’s field notes on little human idiosyncrasies that are quite loveable when you think about it.
It’s pretty easy to lose faith in us as a collective. ‘Us’ as in, Homo Sapiens. Humans. The big dogs. We give good reason to slip into apathy about our species. We can be perpetually, excruciatingly, phenomenally moronic. I catch myself eye-rolling and thinking, ‘idiots’, ‘drongos’, ‘when will we learn’, so on so forth, more than I’d like to admit. But sometimes, something small that humans do, reminds me that deep down, I do indeed love us oh so very much.
So here are my field notes on some of those very things.
We close our eyes when we sing.
We are like cutie-pie baby birds, throwing our heads to the sky and squawking out the lyrics to Man I Need in traffic, while imagining we’re on stage at Madison Square Garden or singing into the stupid face of a dumb boyfriend from fifteen years ago. Music takes us places, to the past to the possible, and we let ourselves be taken. That is pretty cute when you think about it.
We scribble moons, suns and stars on bits of paper.
It seems we remember what matters when we are pretending to listen to Doug from Digital Strategies Group present a 45-minute powerpoint on streamlining. We nod along, while squiggling shapes from the universe. We can’t help it. We are stardust after all, being forced to care about efficient customer tracking and touchpoint mapping. Sometimes, the galaxies just pour out of us, and I love that.
We have imaginary arguments.
Last week I spent 3 hours having a make believe fight with a person I barely know. I had to flick on the light at 1am to write down some of the super witty things I was saying in my head. Needless to say, I won. He was completely flabbergasted and looked so dumb, while I on the other hand was praised by passersby for my retorts. This all happened in my mind of course. Which is a uniquely adorably human experience.
We get uncomfy in small spaces with strangers.
Whether 70 or 17, we become toddlers in an elevator, and its quite adorable. We shift in our silly little shoes, unsure if we should acknowledge the other human, start up a chat, or simply smile. Most of the time, we just turn to the wall, and pretend to be really interested in the shiny interior, like “wow I love the sheen of this metal wall”. I can’t tell you how many elevators walls I have intimate studied knowledge of.
We find a strange connection with people with our names or birthdays.
When we hear our name being called out in a supermarket, only to discover it belongs to another creature of the wild, we become quite inspired and intrigued. Something in our belly flops and we desperately want to tell our co-titled-twin about our connection. We are of the same ilk, one and the same, stitched together, forever, that we should be friends, maybe meet for coffee? We don’t, of course. But the golden thread of recognition is there. Which I love.
We might just be alright kids.
Okay! Back to the field for me! If you can think of any more, please (please please) pop them in a comment.
xx Matisse
But first! Today’s Joy Drops:
Tiny discovered glimmers, collected from the wild, from me to you.
This video of Craig David catching and releasing a fish
This comment on the video of Craig David’ catching and releasing a fish
This perfect Ed Sheeran lyric
“See, I could do without the tan on my left hand, where my forefinger meets my knuckle”
This episode of Michael McIntyre’s ‘Remember Me’ with Alan Carr, Miranda Hart and Holly Willoughby.
I love when you walk past someone walking their dog, and you catch a snippet of their conversation. It's so sweet that we all use the same voice to confide in our animals 🥰