worst enemy.
We can’t tell if any of those other versions would have been better or worse. Those lives are happening, it is true, but you are happening as well, and that is the happening we have to focus on.
Of course, we can’t visit every place or meet every person or do every job, yet most of what we’d feel in any life is still available. We don’t have to play every game to know what winning feels like. We don’t have to hear every piece of music in the world to understand music. We don’t have to have tried every variety of grape from every vineyard to know the pleasure of wine. Love and laughter and fear and pain are universal currencies.
We just have to close our eyes and savour the taste of the drink in front of us and listen to the song as it plays. We are as completely and utterly alive as we are in any other life and have access to the same emotional spectrum.
We only need to be one person.
We only need to feel one existence.
We don’t have to do everything in order to be everything, because we are already infinite. While we are alive we always contain a future of multifarious possibility.
So let’s be kind to the people in our own existence. Let’s occasionally look up from the spot in which we are because, wherever we happen to be standing, the sky above goes on for ever.
Yesterday I knew I had no future, and that it was impossible for me to accept my life as it is now. And yet today, that same messy life seems full of hope. Potential.
The impossible, I suppose, happens via living.
Will my life be miraculously free from pain, despair, grief, heartbreak, hardship, loneliness, depression? No.
But do I want to live?
Yes. Yes.
A thousand times, yes.
Living Versus Understanding
A few minutes later her brother came to see her. He’d heard the voicemail she’d sent him and had responded by text at seven minutes after midnight. ‘You okay, sis?’ Then, when the hospital contacted him, he’d caught the first train from London. He’d bought the latest issue of National Geographic for her while waiting at St Pancras station.
‘You used to love it,’ he told her, as he placed the magazine beside the hospital bed.
‘I still do.’
It was good to see him. His thick eyebrows and reluctant smile still intact. He walked in a little awkward, head cowed, hair longer than it had been in the last two lives in which she had seen him.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been incommunicado recently,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t about what Ravi said it was about. I don’t even think about The Labyrinths any more. I was just in a weird place. After Mum died I was seeing this guy and we had a very messy break-up and I just didn’t want to have to talk to you or, recently, to anyone about it. I just wanted to drink. And I was drinking too much. It was a real problem. But I’ve started getting help for it. I haven’t had a drink for weeks. I go to the gym and everything now. I’ve started a cross-training class.’
‘Oh Joe, poor you. I’m sorry about the break-up. And everything else.’
‘You’re all I’ve got, sis,’ he said, his voice cracking a little. ‘I know I haven’t valued you. I know I wasn’t always the best, growing up. But I had my own shit going on. Having to be a certain way because of Dad. Hiding my sexuality. I know it wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for me either. You were good at everything. School, swimming, music. I couldn’t compete . . . Plus Dad was Dad and I had to be this fake vision of whatever he thought a man was.’ He sighed. ‘It’s weird. We both probably remember it in different ways. But don’t leave me, okay? Leaving the band was one thing. But don’t leave existence. I couldn’t cope with that.’
‘I won’t if you won’t,’ she said.
‘Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.’
She thought of the grief that had floored her when she had heard about Joe’s death by overdose in São Paulo, and she asked him to hug her, and he obliged, delicately, and she felt the living warmth of him.
‘Thanks for trying to jump in the river for me,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘I always thought you didn’t. But you tried. They pulled you back. Thank you.’
He suddenly knew what she was talking about. And maybe more than a