A Synergistic Storyboard
The more contact I have with people, the more I realise that their lives are pretty much like mine. We have our highs and lows, our times of a deeply felt happiness and the profound sadness that fill the gaps between birth and death, our own and those of our loved ones.
As a writer I merely chronicle the oscillations and cadences, the colours and textures, the rhythm and rhyme of the events that constitute my, for now, ongoing existence. One day it will all come to an end, later rather than sooner I hope.
What I will leave behind, my legacy if you like, will be a record of my growth, the changes and the challenges, the triumphs and failures. It will also be a record of the people and places I encountered, their and my comings and goings, our creations and destructions, our love and our hatred, merited or not.
Below I have provided a series of links to a few of my chronicles, some harking back more than fifty years, others of a far more recent conception. If one was of a mind to dig deeper into any of the chosen pieces one would find some little nuggets of gold, or mud, in terms of my thought processes, not to mention a great deal of my personal life, some of it highly agreeable, some not.
For now it is probably best to just take things at face value, for the actual meanings will depend to a very large extent upon your very own life experiences and perspectives. In this way, this is not all about me, it is about you and your life too. Make of it what you will, but above all, it is there to enjoy rather than endure.
Here is a slice of my daily life.
This morning was beautiful. I lay in bed, the caressing rays of the early morning sun streaming through the patio window. The rays filled our humble abode with warmth, light, joy and happiness in equal measure.
We have our ritual half an hour of cuddling and stroking each other’s arms, shoulders and backs. It has a soothing effect that will last the whole day through and says far more than words ever can.
Beyond the veil of a joyous net curtain, our idyllic reverie is punctuated by the sounds of the world outside setting about its daily business.
Just beyond our small balcony, we hear the hard roll of small wheels and footsteps trundling and patting their way past. My wife calls out “Good morning Grandma.”
We don’t know who she is, but she passes at the same time every morning pushing some nondescript trolley full of nothing. The wizened old lady doesn’t even hear the greeting. She carries along with her business, buried deep in her own little world, oblivious to the world beyond her own thoughts of a history as deep as England and a wonderful life higher than the starstruck moon.
Then the crow perched upon the wire begins to caw his call to his or her mates in the small wooded area
“My wife turns on the tv for the early morning news and weather, to listen to whilst she gets ready to go out to work. Monday a typhoon is coming our way. I tell her we can worry about that when it happens. Then we hear that Eddie Van Halen has passed away. A little sadness descends upon us.
We didn’t know Eddie, but it’s always sad to hear that somebody who has given so much joy to the world has left us. Then my wife continues with her business of getting dressed and packing her bag with her sandwich for lunch and whatever other life-saving paraphernalia she feels she might need over the next nine hours.
Suddenly my lovely wife came to give me a hug before she set off for work. And as she draped her arms around my neck she said she was sorry. When I asked her what for she simply said: “I don’t know, maybe it’s….” she was searching for the right words. “…..just in case.” We said in unison. We both laughed out loud as we hugged each other tighter. Geographically and culturally we are from worlds far apart. Amazingly, we are on the same wavelength.
Afterwards, it struck me that this was a really cool thing to do, to say you’re sorry for no particular reason. Maybe, without even without realising it, you have caused offence to your loved one. Maybe it was the news of Eddie’s death that inspired her. You never know the moment. Better get those apologies in whilst you can, just in case.
After my wife had left, I thought about it a little and I realised that saying I am sorry is just another way of saying “I love you.” I love you enough to care about how I might just have hurt you and I want you to know deep in my heart and soul I would be lost without you.
She’s a good woman my wife. To me, she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I hope we both live to be 150 and when our time comes we slip quietly away to the other side snuggling and cuddling in the warming rays of the sun. And I sincerely hope that the angels awaiting us have a hearty breakfast like we had this morning, already set.
The crows can have their eternity and diet of slimey worms, I know which side my bread is buttered and stiltoned. It is a breakfast, a life and a love best described as heavenly. And it is with this thought in mind, death holds no fear for me. I am convinced we will simply pass as elegantly and gracefully as we can, beyond the veil of this world to a vale of serenity and everlasting happiness.
The Mystery and the Mastery