best counter
Search
Report & Feedback

Chapter no 64 – Volcano

The Midnight Library

It is quite a revelation to discover that the place you wanted to escape to is the exact same place you escaped from.ย ๎ขat the prison wasnโ€™t the place, but the perspective. And the most peculiar discovery Nora made was that, of all the extremely divergent variations of herself she had experienced, the most radical sense of change happened within the exact same life.ย ๎ขe one she began and ended with.

๎ขis biggest and most profound shi๎‚ย happened not by becoming richer or more successful or more famous or by being amid the glaciers and polar bears of Svalbard. It happened by waking up in the exact same bed, in the same grotty damp apartment with its dilapidated sofa and yucca plant and tiny potted cacti and bookshelves and untried yoga manuals.

๎ขere was the same electric piano and books.ย ๎ขere was the same sad absence of a feline and lack of a job.ย ๎ขere was still the sameย unknowabilityย about her life ahead.

And yet, everything was di๏ฌ€erent.

And it was di๏ฌ€erent because she no longer felt she was there simply to serve the dreams of other people. She no longer felt like she had to ๏ฌnd sole ful๏ฌlment as some imaginary perfect daughter or sister or partner or wife or mother or employee or anything other than a human being, orbiting her own purpose, and answerable to herself.

And it was di๏ฌ€erent because she was alive, when she had so nearly been dead. And because that had been her choice. A choice to live. Because she had touched the vastness of life and within that vastness she had seen the possibility not only of what she could do, but also feel.ย ๎ขere were other scales and other tunes.ย ๎ขere was more to her than a ๏ฌ‚at line of mild to

moderate depression, spiced up with occasional ๏ฌ‚ourishes of despair. And that gave her hope, and even the sheer sentimentalย gratitudeย of being able to be here, knowing she had the potential to enjoy watching radiant skies and mediocre Ryan Bailey comedies and be happy listening to music and conversation and the beat of her own heart.

And it was di๏ฌ€erent because, above all other things, that heavy and painfulย Book of Regretsย had been successfully burnt to dust.

โ€˜Hi Nora. Itโ€™s me, Doreen.โ€™

Nora was excited to hear from her, as she had been in the middle of neatly writing a notice advertising piano lessons. โ€˜Oh Doreen! Can I just apologise about missing the lesson the other day?โ€™

โ€˜Water under the bridge.โ€™

โ€˜Well, Iโ€™m not going to go into all the reasons,โ€™ Nora continued, breathlessly. โ€˜But I will just say that I will never be in that situation again. I promise, in future, should you want to continue with Leoโ€™s piano lessons, I will be where I am meant to be. I wonโ€™t let you down. Now, I totally understand if you donโ€™t want me to be Leoโ€™s piano teacher any more. But I want you to know that Leo is an exceptional talent. He has a feel for the piano. He could end up making a career of it. He could end up at the Royal College of Music. So, I would just like to say if he doesnโ€™t continue his lessons with me, I want you to know that I feel he should continue themย somewhere.ย ๎ขatโ€™s all.โ€™

๎ขere was a long pause. Nothing but the fuzzy static of phone-breath.

๎ขen:

โ€˜Nora, love, itโ€™s okay, I donโ€™t need a monologue.ย ๎ขe truth is we were in town yesterday, the two of us. I was buying him some facewash and he said, โ€œIโ€™m still going to do piano, right?โ€ Right there in Boots. Shall we just kick o๏ฌ€ย where we le๎‚ย o๏ฌ€ย next week?โ€™

โ€˜Seriously?ย ๎ขatโ€™s amazing. Yes, next week then.โ€™

And the moment Nora came o๏ฌ€ย the phone she sat at the piano and played a tune that had never been played before. She liked what she was playing, and vowed to remember it and put some words to it. Maybe she could turn it into a proper song and put it out there online. Maybe she would write more songs. Or maybe she would save up and apply for a Masterโ€™s. Or maybe she would do both. Who knew? As she played, she glanced over and

saw her magazine โ€“ the one Joe had bought her โ€“ open at a picture of the Krakatoa volcano in Indonesia.

๎ขe paradox of volcanoes was that they were symbols of destruction but also life. Once the lava slows and cools, it solidi๏ฌes and then breaks down over time to become soil โ€“ rich, fertile soil.

She wasnโ€™t a black hole, she decided. She was a volcano. And like a volcano she couldnโ€™t run away from herself. Sheโ€™d have to stay there and tend to that wasteland.

She could plant a forest inside herself.

You'll Also Like