It's been a funny 24 hour period. I have good things happening, I have bad things happening, I have things trying my patience (don't we all?), I have things I'm looking forward to, I have things I'm afraid of, I've had some good fortune, I've had bad luck—a whole mixed bag of stuff is going on. Most importantly, though, I've learned some important things about myself today. I won't bore you with the details (for once), but I'll admit that I do like a good lesson. ;-)
Tonight I went to meet David at his office before seeing Liz Lochhead's new play. I had a an outpouring. I needed it. And he had an ingenius solution—we asked Jesus! No, we didn't pray... he keeps one of those pink plastic Jesus dolls on his sideboard which acts as a Magic 8 ball. We asked him my most pressing questions, and the response was...
"I died for this!?"
It put a much needed smile on my face.
Liz Lochhead's play Edwin Morgan's Dreams and Other Nightmares had a few revelatory moments for me. I've long enjoyed Morgan's poetry and was fascinated to see aspects of his life played out. I identified with the period in his life when his writing dried and he 'had to wait for the good stuff to come again'—I just hope the good stuff does come at some point in my career. I also identified with some of the dream states; it would appear he too experienced lucid dreams, convinced he was falling asleep in one reality only to wake in another and play out a whole separate life. I've been there. During one of the sleep research trials I participated in for my insomnia, I underwent hypnosis and became convinced some of my more lucid dreams had actually played out. This continued into normal life and for years I've had the odd occasion when I've been part way through drinking a coffee or having a conversation with someone only to suddenly wake up in bed and discover the event wasn't actually taking place. I want to find out more about Morgan to find out if his experiences really were similar to mine or if I've simply read too far into a dramatised version of the events. Either way, I enjoyed the play tonight.
As I walked home I got to thinking; here I am, 30 years old, still trying to find my place in the world and work out who I am and what I do. Edwin Morgan was still writing into his 90's. That's another two lifetimes if I'm blessed to live to a ripe old age. Now that is inspiring.
I wonder what his response would be if I had the opportunity to ask him the same question I'd asked Jesus earlier night? Would he too exclaim "I died for this!?"