Napes*

Ever noticed the napes of people’s necks? There’s every shape, size, texture and colour imaginable: the long thin, elegantly pallid nape; the pale, short, fat, hairy nape that narrows to a stocky head; the oily, spotty, skinny nape that last saw soap and water many days ago; the soft, supple, smooth nape, so very well cared for; the sallow, sweaty nape, part-covered in blond, curly swags of hair that drop short of the hastily-tied ponytail; the immaculate, closely-shaved, long nape that rigidly towers over it slovenly neighbours; the flaccid, slightly podgy nape that surrendered rigour for comfort long ago; the myriad covered napes, hiding unimaginably wide if also tiny variations.

As I obediently follow the hoard of seething napes, calmly retreating to the nearest exit in flight from an unknown emergency, I sense me melting into the crowd, just another nape, yet a nape that is uniquely mine. My growing awareness of my fellow napes and my part in the whole, I lose all sense of me and feel the joy of common experience, like the single snowflake forming a blanket in a storm that swathes and mollycoddles the exposed earth.

For the privilege of melting into a sea of bobbing napes and seeing my own as but a piece in life’s jigsaw, I am blessed with elation and the recognition of what would be possible if every nape felt the same for just one second. And the thought moves me to tears and I sigh…hopefully.

* This piece does not feature in my book, Love in Abundance