Thoughts in a tobacco tin
Saturday 11th December 2004
Before setting out today Eamonn and I put our thoughts together. We packed them neatly in a tobacco tin which we opened every now and then to roll out some joint inspiration.
We decided upon the following:
We wanted to communicate clearly.
We wanted to affirm people's positive opinion of themselves. This would help us to feel positively towards others and at the same time, positive about ourselves.
We sat on a bench in the Richmond centre investigating our tobacco tin. We began to ask passing people how they would like to be viewed by others. What would they like other people to say about them. We were told the following:
" You're not a bad person."
" You're a nice person".
" You're the kindest, nicest person I know".
For myself I wrote down, "You're a genuine person."
Eamonn wrote;
"You're dedicated, defiant, sincere, committed, good-natured, generous, kind".
"You're heart is in the right place".
"You have your head screwed on."
We showed this list to some other people, including some young lads who sat down beside us. We asked them, which of the phrases on the list they would most like to have applied to them.
They didn't like the formality of some of the words and suggested "You're dead on." There was a consesus from several people for this affirmation.
In large red letters we wrote two small posters for each of us to hold in front of us.
"YOU'RE DEAD ON".
For some time we sat in the Richmond Centre with our messages displayed. After a time we moved off, walking slowly through the streets and the Foyleside Shopping Centre.
Many people chatted to us about our intentions and there was much good-humour , good-will and appreciation expressed.
TREE OF WORDS
You're dead on, you're OK, you're better than that,
You're splendid you're fine you're wonderful great,
You're unique in yourself , there is no-one else,
Who is special like you, they way that you are.
You're dead on, you're you and that cannot change.
Make the best of it, accept with a smile
The warts and the dents , the scratches and scrapes,
The exhaust hole that roars, the battery that's flat.
There is no-one else who is you but you,
You're perfect at that, you're the best you there is.
You're different: your roots are your own,
And these none can see, just your leaves
And your twigs, blossoms and bark.
And if the leaves are your thoughts and
Your words let them grow, let them fly,
Let them shrivel and die.
You can bid them good-bye.
Let more come next spring, fresh ideas and words,
Till autumn arrives; time for sifting and care,
Save the golden and precious for soil at your base:
Loamy and moist, richly fertile and true.
