One Life
from the Ever Wonder collection (1996-2001)
When my eldest son was growing up he wondered a lot about what his parents did on Saturday nights. He would wake up on Sunday morning and see signs that he had missed out on some fun. He might spy an empty chip bag, maybe a drained wine bottle, or a half finished container of dip. If there were scattered husks of peel ‘n eat shrimp that would really drive him wild with envy.
When he was really small he had the power to make us disappear by placing his hands over his face. Therefore, it would follow as he got older that when his eyes were closed and he slipped into the unconscious dream world, his real world would also be suspended. The world, he figured, should stop revolving when he went to sleep. I can empathize: It sure would make life easier to understand, if you could turn the planet off the same way you switch off a bedroom light.
When I was in elementary school, I remember the fascination I felt whenever I went on a field trip. Leaving the security of the school room to wander about the city gave me an eerie feeling, not unlike the way you feel after you emerge from a film matinee. I remember thinking how wonderful it was that cars and people were still moving about without my presence. It was at that moment that I realized I wasn’t the centre of the universe. Other people had lives and they were going about their business and I didn’t have to be included to make that reality happen. I suspect that my son desired to be two people, or more, at once. Back in those childish days he didn’t want to be left out of anything. How many of us would still like to be in two places at once? How many of us would enjoy a chance to have two or more lives, all carefully orchestrated so to be woven in a seamless mesh? We claim to be busy now, but what if we could manage it?
Would we have one life in the mountains, all by ourselves writing poetry and growing rhubarb? Could another concurrent life be spent in a big city, with a new escort every night whisking you off to a play or gala reception? At the same time shall we wish to live the life of a Mother Theresa; immersed in work for the benefit of mankind?
How difficult it is to sort out all the threads that are part of who we are and yet come to the truth that we have only one life. If there is such a thing as an alternate universe, I doubt we’d know about it! The reality is that sometimes we have to sleep and miss out. Sometimes we are somewhere else when something happens. We can’t share in all the world’s happiness or grief. I wish I could choose everything, but I can’t.
My son missed out on some Saturday night frivolities. Slowly, he found out that he could make some of his own weekend fun. Therein lies the wonder of life.