I was reading a review yesterday about an upcoming drama on British tv. I’d like to quote the opening sentence in full: “Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, just when everything’s at it’s most wretched and pointless, the universe will shift slightly, put this thing together with that other thing, and suddenly deliver something you weren’t expecting, had never even considered, but which, now it’s there in front of you, strikes you as so right, so inevitable and so mysteriously preordained you can’t help thinking – maybe things aren’t that bad”.
I don’t know about you, but I want to watch that drama (which happens to be about two fellas who, as a hobby, go metal detecting) before I’ve even read the rest of the review. But more than that, I want to inspire people to write that kind of opening sentence to a review about something that I’ve done. Yes, I am one of those damaged children who can’t just settle for a life of making a mess in my nappy (diaper!), making lego monsters, making love, making money, making a will, and then making like a dead person. I want to influence the world. For the better. I want to shape it as it spins round to meet the bit of me that can touch a part of it. My fingers to the clay. A shape that is “so right, so inevitable and so mysteriously preordained” that it lifts a fellow human being’s spirit and helps them to find new meaning in the universe. It seems kind of sad to have this wonderful privilege we call Life, and not to try our damndest to do that. To try and leave things, even if only simple moments in time, better than we found them.
However, despite those worthy sentiments, I’ve lived long enough now to have nearly had that desire battered out of me, on numerous occasions, by the usual culprits. Failure, rejection, disappointment, bad luck, bad timing, invasive cynicism, creeping bitterness, lack of talent…and too much time spent playing solitaire and sudoku on my iphone. They’ve all had it in for me. But then someone goes and writes a sentence. It could have been your sentence. Might have made me laugh, or cry, or think. And it doesn’t have to be the greatest sentence in the world, but suddenly I get that little kick of inspiration to knock me out of my comatose stagnation phase into a moving forward phase.
And it is in the moving forward that the miracles happen. So I am grateful to you people, whoever you are, for doing that for me. But I am also very proud of myself. For one thing, and one thing only. I refuse to stagnate. I keep getting up. And don’t let that sound like the depressingly limited view of life it might do. Because those miracles that occasionally manifest themselves after the getting up, even those very tiny moments of magic, can be so glorious, so shining, that they light the way forward. Over a whole new terrain of challenges, problems, difficulties. And potential solutions. Potential magic. Magic that only you and I can discover.
So I’m looking for miracles people. I’ve got out my miracle detector again. That’ll be me, down on the beach, headphones on, in a world of my own, looking for miracles. And that, in itself, is a miracle.