The stage has been set, the play has played out and now the curtain has fallen to, in some -rare- cases, thunderous applause. For the rest of the actors, the recognition was, more or less, as their stature deserved. Some, unnoticed, carried the play along, their momentum forcing the rest of the cast to work to their best, but these people are destined to be in the shadows, to gain no recognition. They are the backbones, but who notices the backbone? Only when it is gone do we miss it.
In so many ways, an era of our lives is over. It barely feels like it had really begun.
Friendships forged in act 1 fell by the wayside before scene three even began. Those that last till the final act may disintegrate behind the curtain, or they may continue, passing through the void into real life, onto a higher plane, to a different dimension. Even then, these newly forged ties may twist and break, the silver cords that bound them, looking so beautiful, but shattering so easily. The cords made from cotton, reinforced by time and experience, glued to the wrists of those involved may not look up to much, but often prove to be the most enduring. These boring, commonplace, everyday friendships, loves, heartaches have the power and the tenacity to survive. All the tensions, all the strife, all the disagreements, all melt into the fabric of the relationship and stain it with that particular hue of love. As well as the bad times, these cords are strengthened by the good times, by the shared joys, the laughs, the moments of unexpected, but utterly companionable silence... The whispers on the wind, the simplest joys of life, when shared, also strengthen these unusual bonds of friendship.
Within our own plays we had a part, and we played it to our ability. Now, in the real world, we have to start again, we have to build on the experiences we had whilst performing. In the slightly unnatural, slightly stultifying atmosphere of our previous lives we formed ourselves. Now, we can recreate these former people if we so wish. Or we can recreate ourselves anew. Different people moving to different places.
I don't want to lose myself in a new, highly stimulating, extraordinary setting. I want to grow within the person I have become, shaped by those threads that bind me to certain people. Within my play, there have been many characters, some of whom have fallen by the wayside, but not without some thought. Some, more central, have shaped me by their continual presence and their continued bond, even though their end of the thread lies motionless in the ground. Just because I can not see them doesn't mean they don't still have a profound effect on me. These friends, comrades, fellow actors, though fallen, still remind me of important things and lessons in my life. Through one I learnt the true importance of friendship and acceptance and how one simple kind word can change your perspective and the amount of joy you gain from a situation. Never take friendship for granted. Work hard at it. Anything good deserves to be worked at. Of those cords attached to my wrist, there are plenty of plain cotton, several that are fraying and one or two that are showing themselves to be truly made from platinum. These bonds all have different properties and mean different things. The frayed ones could still be pulled taut, could still be rescued, but that requires work on both parts. Some are showing themselves up as barbed wire, wanting only to cut and scar, not to bring learning and growth. These ones need work and love to soften and become copper or cotton. The hardest tests can prove either our making or undoing, can be the most rewarding or utterly devastating.
Friends can become more than that. Friends can become lovers, enemies, companions. For friends who choose more, it can be great, or it can devastate. As long as those friends don't forget that they too, have more than one thread each around their wrists, don't allow those threads to fray, don't ignore the tugging that grows gradually softer, then they can have a good and encouraging relationship. We all have to pay attention to the warnings that the bonds we have give us. If we don't, we doom ourselves to trying to create new bonds all the time, because we can't support the effort required to nurture bonds, the time needed to allow threads to show their true colours.
New places mean new experiences. Ones that we haven't quite decided if we want to encourage or not. We have to choose our new bonds, but we cannot forget the threads we already sustain.
Within life there are many adventures. They all shape us, whether or not they leave us with fresh threads to nurture and cherish.
Life is your choice. You choose how to live it. Choose well.
