Her: Hello lovely.
Me: You sound a bit worryingly like [person I know].
Her: (I can’t remember what she said but it totally sounded like that person I know.)
Me: Stop sounding like him! You’re supposed to be my big sister!
Her: Well, it’s probably because you like his qualities and you want some of them for yourself. And because you’re a lot more sensitive to voices than you think you are.
(here I dreamed off about all the beautiful voices I know and we resumed later)
Me: Actually, that’s one thing I’d like in the future. To have a really beautiful speaking voice. Like me when I’ve been doing loads of drama, the way it gets deeper, more expressive, more confident – but I haven’t really had that as an adult, only when I was young.
Her: Like this?
Me: You sound faintly like you’re an amused villainess trying to seduce someone, but we’re on the right track.
Her: We’ll get there. Did you know I love your sense of humour? That’s one thing that’s pure you. All the crap you’ve been through never changed it, it just made you less secure about it and less happy to share it with the world. I’m TOTALLY happy to get my clown on and that’s one thing I want to teach you. Growing will actually make you BOSIER!
Me: (tearing up) Really? I’m going to get bosier?
Her: (laughing) Oh, you have noooooo idea.
Me: So should we call this ‘Get Your Bose On’?
Her: YES! TOTALLY THAT! HAHA!
Me: I thought you were going to be more solemn and mystical!
Her: What is more solemn and mystical than laughter!?
Me:… That actually made sense. (Pause) Oh. You’re a bit… Mary Poppins, aren’t you?
Her: I have a certain je-sais-quoi. Yes. But in a totally bosy way. I also have a fantastic nug, by the way, which means *you also have a fantastic nug*, but you just don’t know it yet.
Me: Awesome. How do I get more down with the fantastic nug?
Her: You need to forgive Mr. Banks. [as in: from Mary Poppins]
Me: I need to what now? I wasn’t aware I was angry with him.
Her: You don’t have to be aware you were angry with him. Just forgive him. Forgive him for the rules. Forgive him for the timetables. Forgive him for the faced-and-fought. Forgive him for getting into your soul and becoming part of you.
Me: Oh… THAT.
Her: Yes. That.
Me: That’s a big forgive. I’m not sure I… actually… aaa. Hard to go there.
Her: Yes, it will be. So much love.
Me: I’ll work on it.
Her: Yes, because if you can forgive that, forgive him in others, forgive him in yourself, then we can get somewhere. The Grey Nug, we shall call it. Whereas what you have is perhaps the Rainbow Nug. Or the Sparkly Nug. Feel free to take five minutes to google up some pictures. *grin*
Me: (does so)
Her: Yes, there we go.
Me: I’ve noticed the grey nug is miserable and the rainbow nug is happy.
Her: Exactly. The job’s a game.
Me: Rainbow nug has found the fun!
Her: And there’s the difference. As long as you have an angry, angry little nug that was raised by Miss Andrew, and yours was sooooo raised by Miss Andrew, you have a grey nug. Once you chuck it, stick your punched-out bowler hat back on your head and go dancing around waving your broken umbrella like a nincompoop, THEN you get the rainbow nug.
Me: Mr. Banks redeemed himself… he forgave himself, I think. I’m trying to work out why he burst out laughing and saying ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ – and why he told his boss ‘there’s no such thing as you!’ – because he’d realised that none of it really mattered.
Her: Because what mattered was…
Me: Happiness. ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, I’m feeling better all the time!’ – It’s like a Joker epiphany, but in reverse!
Her: I don’t know about in reverse…
Me: But he became a lovely kind father and not insane, and Joker… oh, Joker.
Her: Not the same. But not in reverse. Joker’s realisation was driven by pain, and so pain became his one true love. Mr. Banks’s was driven by happiness. Whatever drives your great epiphany will drive you.
Me: I want mine to be love, please.
Her: It already is. We’re just going to take some time to get down with that. You already get deep down that nothing matters but love.
Me: Yes, I do. Nothing really exists but love! It turns out, when all is said and done -
Me: But when was my big epiphany? I mean yes, the wolf cub drop, but was that it? Because I had all that other stuff already – I don’t know if I can remember one moment -
Her: Being born.
Me: Did you just say that? I don’t know if I heard you say that or if I’m just making it up.
Her: What’s the difference?
Me: I wonder… I guess… It’s the biggest change of your life. Nothing nothing NOTHING not even dying could possibly be as traumatic as being born. I mean, what? You’ve been in a womb for your entire life and suddenly you’re squeezed out into this blinding cold freaky moving touching-you universe and you’re suddenly this little helpless thing being dangled in midair and it’s all suddenly hideously insecure. And then you realise that… somebody puts you in your mother’s arms. And you instinctively realise what love is. You realise that being born into all this screaming weirdness, into this totally unrecognisable state, you’ve just been born from love into love. Maybe even more awesome love. There is no change so extreme as that, and you found out afterwards that it just meant love. And then you forget it again. You forget that starting school is love, puberty is love, adulthood is love, age is love, and death is totally love. It doesn’t mean it’s not going to be screamingly weird. But it’s love. Change is love. There is only from love into love. Because that’s all there is. Holy crap. Insights!! This is as good as Shiva Nata.
Her: Maybe even better.
Me: Modest too, aren’t you?
Her: *smiles*.., I love you.
Me: I love you too!!
Her: Then you love yourself.
Me: I TOTALLY LOVE MYSELF! HAHA!
Her: Hey, watch it with the laughing in capitals, that’s a bit Joker
Me: Hee hee. I’d better go now.
Her: Okay. *waves, smiles* See you next time.
Me: Thank you.
Her: You’re welcome… Thank yourself.