I've been thinking a great deal about time these past days, about its relativity and its weight. And this is what I've come up with - if I try to sum up all my days and times of a year, there are two moments that stand out. Well, there is one hour and there is one day that stand out, to be more precise.
There is an hour that is so laden with meaning and significance it outweighs any other hour. These are those 50-60 minutes I spend in The Lady's counseling office in Newbold. It happens only once a year and every second of it is pure gold for me. These are the moments when I can be utterly honest, when I feel very safe and understood and appreciated, and when I can expect the words of life to be spoken to me. I met up with H. in her office last Thursday. On my morning walk from Bracknell to Newbold I kept thinking about that appointment, about that hour, and I realised at one point with surprise that I was rehearsing the things I wanted to tell her in my mind. And it wasn't because I didn't want to be spontaneous in her office, but it was because I knew I only had time for the most essential, for the most important topics, and I tried to cut out all that was less relevant and less important. When you have one hour a year, you don't have any time to waste. You can only talk about the things that matter the most - about things that are most hurtful, things that are most joyous, things that move you the most. And that's exactly what I told her when I walked into her office. I said, You know, H., this is the most important hour I have in my life. I wasn't flattering or trying to be nice, I was just honest. And she was very touched by it. Another great thing about this hour is that I can continue exactly where we left off last year. I don't need to explain myself, I don't need to tell her my story and where I come from, what I struggle with, she knows it all already. She knows me so well there is no need for any extra words. Maybe she knows me the best. And she cares. Heavens, she cares about me so much more than I deserve. I don't know why she cares so much, why she is so interested in my life and how I'm doing. But that magic that happens during the counseling session really is my lifeline. It gives me strength and it keeps me going. Quite literally.
When our hour ended on Thursday afternoon, she asked me if she could pray for me. Of course she could. She did and while praying, she cried. It was the second time she has cried with me and for me. It was so special I didn't even want to breathe. I just wanted to be still and stay in that moment for a very long time.
Next April, I told her when I wiped my eyes and left her office. I'll see you again next April.
What an hour.
And then the day. It shouldn't come as a surprise that it is the day I get to spend with Dr A. N. in London (or Oxford). I look forward to it for months on end. And so far our dates have never left me feeling disappointed. They are always packed with culture and books and excellent food. And again, a lot of undeserved caring and mentoring.
This time we met up on Sunday afternoon in London, A. having just returned from Bhutan. First she sat me down in a cafe and let me unload all my personal dramas from last year. It was sometime last summer when I started opening the door of my personal life and started telling her little things about what was happening, not being sure whether I had crossed any lines or whether she'd be even interested in hearing about my mess. But little by little she encouraged me to tell more, and gave her opinion and advice, very softly, sometimes through the prism of her humor and sarcasm. Now we have come to a place in our friendship where I can freely tell her about my dramas. And she listens.
Then we headed to the National Gallery to savor some world class art. It was Michelangelo this time. After the exhibition we would sit somewhere in the quiet corridor of the Gallery, resting and thinking about Michelangelo, and we came up with a plan on the spot - hey, why don't we go on a art trip one day. Why, yes, let's. Let's go to Rome. Yes. Rome sounds good. I've got some friends in Rome who could host us (said she). Rome it is then. I'm serious - I want to make this happen, if possible, during the next year. Right now I can't think of any trip that would make me happier. And then we raided a book shop. She would give me her recommendations and I would buy the books. But then she would pick up some other book from the shelf, and look at me, and go like, This book I'll recommend you in, say, ten year's time, not now. You're not ready for this one yet. And I felt like a little kid who can't watch or read grown-ups stuff lol! And then a lunch and some Newbold gossip, and a little walk, and then it was time to depart.
And despite my burnout (or a breakdown or whatever it is that hit me last week) and lack of sleep, I would sit on a Bracknell train in the evening with a big smile on my face. Also with a pile of books in my bag.
What a day.
Sweet
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