run…lola…run

Out of the blue someone says, can I please talk to you and when the conversation ends you are left thinking about your faith in modern medicine and how fragile things are, how quickly they change and how insignificant all the things that you assume are important.

I’m still staggered by the news.

Last year I began reading the Martin Beck series which was written by a Swedish Marxist couple in the 60s and deals with Detective Martin Beck and how his life unfolds over 10 novels. Last year I read four of the novels in no particular order other than that they were available. Here the sequence isn’t that important even though it does provide an underlying thread for the character development.

I remember two passages quite vividly, one dealt with a young couple whose life had become so much better once they understood their respective energies and how they were able to marry it, the spikes became less and the understanding accentuated all things that were positive. I liked that thought of trying to tie your energy spectrum with someone else’s, the notion of nourishing and reinforcing each other spirits by acknowledging something so simply.

The other one was a habitual thought which one of the detectives had daily before he went out into the field and that was, ‘Is this my last day?’ Those are the type of thoughts I mute, I can’t bring them to the forefront even if it is to more fully appreciate the present and the joys of my current circumstance.

But after that conversation, I had that thought pop in my head and then I went and I tried to run away from it, one hour almost 10 kilometres later on the treadmill without success, no proper sleep although there was a full moon in the night sky which often impairs my rest.

And then in the stillness of the night on your bed curled towards the sea you realise that there some things you just have to leave alone. And you pray that the good things find the people you care about and you put your faith in modern medicine.