‘I remember a monk telling me something similar when I was stationed in the Far East.’
Marleen smiles. ‘Compassion, including self-compassion, is the answer to everything – to love yourself as you love others – to be one loving being. And ultimately to take ourselves less seriously. There’s a lot to be said for simple laughter and curiosity, to explore what comes your way and to enjoy it – just like a child. I wish I’d learnt that earlier in life.’
‘I’ll second that,’ says Frank, his eyes, fixed on Marleen, full of warmth and admiration.
‘We all wish for things to be different in life,’ I say.
‘But we shouldn’t,’ says Marleen. ‘This is where suffering stems from. Accept things as they are, let go of the fight. Don’t cling to the past. Don’t desire anything of the future. There is nothing to fear. Life is only awareness in the now.’
‘But what of our memories?’ asks Frank, and I knowfrom his sorrowful expression that he’s thinking of Lillian.
‘Let them come and go like clouds, just as Lillian did; don’t cling.’
‘But what about when we want to remember the one we loved?’
‘That love is still with you, their energy is in you, has shaped you, and is around you. There is no reason to feel guilt. We are never without or alone; we are all swirling eddies together in the deep, peaceful river of life.’
‘Food for thought,’ says Frank, finishing his Paris-Brest with a flourish.
‘Indeed,’ I ponder, a feeling of lightness I haven’t felt in years beginning to flow through me. ‘I think I might walk to the station alone, if you don’t mind, consider the practicalities of Bill’s care while I retrain.’
‘Very good,’ says Marleen. ‘In attending to your needs, you are practising self-compassion while also considering Bill’s.’
‘Thank you,’ I reply.
‘You are welcome, and remember, you are never alone, you are one with everything. With self-compassion, laughter and curiosity, you’ll find your way through fear.’
‘Quite,’ I answer with a smile, just as my phone begins to ring, Aleks’s name flashing on the screen.
‘Aleks?’ I answer, my breath catching, terrified that something has happened to Bill.
‘It’sOK, Elsa, Bill’s fine,’ she says brightly, before I even have to ask, and I know from her voice that she’s not hiding the truth. ‘I’m calling about something else.’
I signal to Marleen and Frank that I’ll take the call while walking to the station. They give a little wave, too engrossed in conversation to really notice my departure.
‘The care home is cutting costs. They’re halving my hours.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say, selfishly hoping that she won’t have to take on another job that might impact her ability to continue to care for Bill.
‘I was thinking I could help more with Bill, if you’d like the support.’
I stop where I am on the pavement, the sun bathing me in light. I feel as if I’m basking in some divine realm, as if all the stars have suddenly aligned simply for Bill and me.
‘Hello? Are you there?’ Aleks asks, and only then am I aware that I’m standing, stock-still, on a busy pavement.
‘Yes,’ I answer, dumbfounded that a weekend in Paris has led to me being able to study while Aleks shares caring responsibilities for Bill.
‘Yes, you’re there, or yes, you’d like the extra help?’
‘Both!’ I laugh, elated, feeling as if my world is no longer ending, that instead Bill and I are, and will for ever be, part of the ongoing flow of life.
33.
CARLY
I sent Dad a couple of photos of Mum doing her thing on stage, telling him how proud he’d have been of her. I didn’t mention the Nicolas interlude, too livid at him to share. But I did tag on a comment at the end of the message about me taking over the bookshop. I’ve been checking my phone every few minutes to look for a reply, but nothing, until now:
Carly, it would make me very proud to see you run the bookshop, but financially the business is in a mess, and I can’t have you starting life with a loan of your own. Why don’t you think about finding a bookshop manager job, see if it’s really your passion before committing to a business of your own? Dad xx
