The last day before Christmas day saw the office for the so called entrepreneur program almost empty, but I didn’t mind.
One meeting with an architect who had a need of making invisible some table-borders somebody had coded for her – and that was it. I went home again.
Char had the day off, and had bought some last Christmas presents, but was tired.
She could feel Jay again, more and more, and that always livens her up, although she worried a little bit about that stupid raw meat parasite again.
She was tired, and that was why she worried. However, I think a more likely explanation is that she skipped lunch.
As we watched a movie together this evening about Swedish singer Monica Zetterlund and how she almost sold her happiness to fame, I suddenly thought of how all things have a backside.
There’s an office in the city, vibrant with entrepreneurial can-do, but so many people are living off their insurance Or if they have their own companies, as some of the temporary occupants do, they don’t earn enough to make a really good living.
There’s an unborn child, whom we have waited for – for almost 7 years, and thought lost. A child whose presence feels like the definition of gratefulness, every time I’m aware of it. There’s also the fear of some illness suddenly striking.
Then there’s fame and it’s flipside. Like with Monica Z.
I recently talked to my best friend, MR, on the phone and he told me how he had taught a course in world building at an animation school recently. Something I can only dream of doing.
But MR also wants a child and probably fears, like we did, that he will never get it.
They haven’t had one yet, except a pregnancy that never really got started before it ended. And they both have so much to keep alive as well, like his wife’s band – playing several times a week. And time goes by and chances may become ever more slim . ..
He also has a mother who is very ill, several times a year close to the end in fact. It’s like a mad roulette, where she spins and spins and is thrown off the wheel again and again and then right back in.
Like a line dancer always on the border between death and life. That’s life of an ex-alcoholic.
We should know, for Char’s loving father was one …
And MR has worked hard to get to where he is today, in his career, just as his wife has. Nothing has come easy for them, except perhaps their talents. But talents are never enough. They are disciplined as hell, and that’s what got them where they are.
I think backside or flipside may not be right.
It reeks of Ying-Yang and that is not what I’m trying to say, just that there’s always more underneath. Good and bad. Shadows and light. All mixed up.
Nobody is completely happy, or completely sad – unless they are so depressed they can’t see all that is good in their lives.
And that’s where I ought to leave it – an admission of insight that comes with my particular age, I guess, that nothing is ever straightforward or black or white.
But that’s not enough.
I do accept life – that is like this. I even appreciate it very much.
I believe life has deep meaning, especially because it is a shadow and light dance, each contrasting the other.
But I also long for something more permanent and unmovable to stand on, just for a while. Something you can return to, when you tire of the dance.
It is Christmas Day soon and that reminds me not to give up hope that such a foundation exists, beneath all of it.
Beneath that which is below the surface, and on the other side of the backside.
And perhaps in front of it, as well.