There is something about the leaving of someone I love which causes me to want to write something, anything, in response. Once, it was the departure of my brother back to Scotland with his then new wife just before a celebration of Christmas. Then I wrote a fantastical short story about a family of birds who communicate with each other in such a way that the primacy of love in relationships and life was brought through. Another time I felt the absence of my Australian cousin who had returned home, my response being to write about two ducks who competitively performed varieties of tricks trying to attract the attention of a certain duckette. I'm not sure why I resort to birds to fill this void, but maybe it's just an easy, short-hand way of talking about emotions in a light-heartedly impersonal way that is tantamount to saying a short goodbye straight in the eye, accompanied with a firm handshake, and leaving that as that. This time the person leaving is a priest who has been living in the same hostel I do, who is now going off to Pakistan as a missionary. This carries with it its own dangers, of course.
But I'll not resort to the analogy of birds. But maybe the feeling that I experience at such a moment as this is the desire to create something out of something that seems to my eye as a loss. To make something out of experience that makes it palatable enough to stay with it. But also, now I feel that it is important not to take refuge in such things as stories, but to stay with this story - the real one, happening now - and if something is to be created it will be more real because I have not turned away.
It would be too easy to think of a Phoenix coming resurrected from the ashes of hard situations. Maybe all we could hope for is that loss and distance can be viewed as ashes compacted to glass, through which we can see life that bit more clearly. There are a few friends whom I haven't seen now for a couple of years, good friends, and this is not always my fault. It is dangerous to become friends with another who comes from another part of the world! Or is free enough that they might just go there! But that is life and it is better for its complexity - I think - but the world is rich with the breathe of unfulfilment, which will continue until distance is breached. It is a time when the condition of man as pilgrim is most keen, and when sensitivity opens the heart to a life which is too cruel, and too beautiful; when sorrow is sweet.
2 comments:
Oh, pheonixes! Thomas Carlyle once likened the simile to history...its beautiful to think of it...out of the ashes of the French Revolution, WWI, WWII...but then Heart of Darkness comes in and that darn ancient forest! I think maybe the problem comes in when we read too much and everytime we try to find an answer to the problem, we remember something somewhere where it was proved wrong. At least I do...in place of experience, I use literature. Its all just a mess and I can't make any sense out of it. But maybe, just maybe all these friendships that come and go are what's real. These friendships change us, but more importantly, help us to rise above the world and see life for what it is. I'm afraid this didn't make much sense, I'm a bit preoccupied as I have a huge test tomarrow, but anyway, goodnight.
You're right - it's like the Bible which can be used to argue for almost any position by a skilled debater. Can we ever break through these analogies to what really just is true? It is painful to think of friendships being by their nature passing, even though life often shows this to be so. But there is something in certain ones which speak of a deeper realm, and lasting commitment.
Thanks for taking time out from your hectic studies and I hope your test went well.
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