I felt dismayed by a sense of loss.
I found a dog-eared crazy golf scorecard down the back of my sofa the other day, when we hit balls at a T-Rex in fits of laughter.
Then there was the Hollywood Bowl arcade tickets nestling in the same jacket I wore on a hollow date, as I tried in vain to get over her.
Or the hairclip behind my bedside table that fastened a memory in my mind, gently loosening and releasing over time.
The highs, while they lasted, soared way above Arthur’s Seat, where we held hands tightly as the sun began to set.
The lows would prove insurmountable and in the blink of an eye, the chapter had closed.
A Simple Twist of Fate.
If the heady relationship I was once in taught me anything, it’s that everything changes and nothing lasts forever, no matter how much you wish it did at the time.
It’s a reminder that impermanence is the only guarantee in life, with the bigger conundrum residing in how you’re supposed to deal with it?
Growing old, losing a loved one, getting fired or in my case, getting dumped, can happen when you least expect it. We have to learn to roll with the punches rather than continue to reel beneath them.
I’ll remember our first date forever. A slim fitting jacket for what I presumed was a slim chance with the girl who taught me how to fly.
The lack of central reservation along the six-lane Aston Expressway felt perilous as I drove to meet her. It’s a sight I’m usually glad to see at the end of any Birmingham outing, rather than the beginning. I like how it guides me back home. But on this warm summer evening, I didn’t want to see it again for a while.
The end, when it came, didn’t last long.
Eighteen months bookended into a few minutes in my living room, where we sat like old acquaintances. Any longer and I might have seen the Angsana sunshine in her eyes. Her beaming smile – the one that stopped me in my tracks – had given way to a frown by now.
Did it disappear slowly over time, or did it vanish suddenly when I wasn’t paying attention? She was looking towards a different world beneath leaden skies, arms folded. It was a place she seemed resigned to, but I couldn’t pull her back.
Her absence went through me like thread through a needle. Everything I did was stitched with its colour.
Days of suffering followed that were too acute for words. But acknowledging that it was unlikely to be any different has helped me (and my overly sensitive soul).
Sad and wistful and lonesome are what human beings feel when they are parted from what they love. They are difficult emotions but they needn’t be problems, however painful it feels at the time. It only becomes suffering when we resent them, or resist them, or pretend they’re not there.
Everything that comes also goes, everything that lives must die and everything that is created will crumble.
Impermanence affects us all and the biggest challenge is being able to embrace it.
Every situation – whether painful or joyful – carries a hidden opportunity to be turned into something wonderful for yourself and others. If we’re able to convert our ups and downs into purpose, by serving others, we can find meaning in our lives.
I’ll never forget the girl that I lost, but time is allowing me to embrace it for what was…A joyous passage of life that was destined to burn out before it faded away.
Nowadays, I make the most of the good moments while they last, adjust more easily to the lows as they arise and embrace the good times when they return.
Because they will return, of that I’m sure.
Robbo says:
Nowadays, I make the most of the good moments while they last, adjust more easily to the lows as they arise and embrace the good times when they return. The best part of the blog mate. You deserve so much. Keep embracing those good moments. I learnt to do that a while back. Also look forward to the future as good things always happen to good people eventually
Ben Smallman says:
Thank you Paulie, my friend. I’m looking forward to the future, for sure. It will involve you and a beer, I hope. x
Mark Earl says:
Father, son, mother… been there, lost them. Surely not in the right order, but that’s what happens when you least expect it. Impermanence is certainly the only certainty. The biggest worry now is the approaching impermanence of our planet. I am so glad that I lived and grew up in the era that I did. For a short while it seemed that the World might change for the better. Never mind, we’re Premier League! Stay well Ben.
Ben Smallman says:
Thanks for the reply Doog. I am sorry for the losses you’ve had to navigate your way through. I had no idea. I don’t know if there is ever a ‘magic bullet’ to get through that sense of grief. Mine, in this instance, sounds a bit pathetic when loved ones have literally passed, but it did feel like a bereavement, as the lady I was once with seemed to pass away somehow, despite still living and breathing.
I learn that some days are destined to be better than others, and that we people are more resilient than we know. We tend to find a way, don’t we? I generally think that if you do good things enough of the time, you stand a good chance of experiencing good things in the future. I’m no expert in cosmos and planets and stuff, but it stands a chance they might align if you are a good person. And if they don’t, then you’re still doing good things so it’s all good! A beer or coffee before the next home match Doog? I’d really look forward to this.
Mark Earl says:
Sounds good to me. We tend to put off alcohol until after the game (that’s when we usually need it most) but a coffee would be delightful. There tends to be a gathering at Dougie and Barbara’s place near West Park before the match and I’m sure you’d be welcome if you fancy dropping in.
Ben Smallman says:
A coffee sounds perfect. I’ll liaise with Lord Twixfix for an invite. (I won’t tell him that I’ll only be attending if you are there or he’ll be mortally offended. But it’s the truth!)