I had a problem last week. Luckily it became a nullity later, but while I was in between I had to experience something. I was standing in front of locked doors and met a young receptionist – her face without any emotions – who told me that new clients wouldn’t be accepted any more at that place. Emergency or not – this instruction from her authorities was more important than personal pain. My back was shivering. With my wings down I started walking in the grey drizzling rain to the last address I was thinking about – depressingly expecting to be refused there as well.  A friendly looking receptionist in her 60s behind a high desk in a small reception room welcomed me. Was I looking so miserable or was I able to pull my inside out? With open ears and somehow with an open heart as well she was listening to my problems she gradually  squinched up her face. They were definitely overcrowded that day. Extreeeemely difficult . . .I – completely wiped out – kept standing there sighing, meanwhile behind myself three more women were also waiting. Then a quick view to the clock in a 70s style. The whole equipment seemed to be from that  area, except a computer of the first generation. She told me to wait, but she didn’t know when the doctor would be in time for me. Perhaps in two hours – at lunch time. I didn’t have to look at my watch. I knew I had an appointment then. ‘Calm down and take a seat in the waiting room,’ I thought by myself. Anything else will remain to be seen.  Suddenly the telephone behind the counter rang. “Yes, yes, yes, Ok, we’ll do it that way.” The friendly woman smiled at me: “It’s your lucky day. Another patient has just cancelled her appointment. Perhaps you won’t have to wait that long.”  
Then she checked my blood pressure caressing my arm which really did me good in a wonderful way. With a smile I was watching the criss-crossed piles of documents and all the equipment in a cramped space. Lots of baby photos were sticking at the wall. Then she showed me the small waiting area, the cloakroom, the toilet, the door to the doctor’s room, the vending machine. No, I’m not insured privately, I’m an average patient, and I was damned lucky to find people at this place, who had such a heart of gold, that they even could share. Sometimes it seems to me there will be less and less of them. Or the other way around: There is an increasing number of people who are putting  up a big front and who don’t seem to be affected by anything.
The doctor herself – shortly before her old age retirement – was a doozy. With her warm smile and her open eyes she calmly took care of my problem and solved it. What a comforting place at the right moment. On the way to my studio the clouds opened and the sun was tickling my happy face. 

Yes, I also created a comforting place where I am touching  people taking care of them for a while. I have this power as well. Outside my little kingdom I often let down my inner blinds and avert my eyes not to see the ugly and the cheeky. Tunnels are important, but they shouldn’t be too long. 
I’m always happy to see people with a heart and with profundity, who as well had created such a place where people can dock at for refilling their energy.

So what else was I engaged in this month?

Christmas is approaching and I was baking mouth-watering biscuits. The camera was with me and kept this culinary moment. Klick here for my  photo show.