When something is completely out of your life, you treasure every little bit of the forsaken pleasure that comes your way. In my case, it’s television.
I had done away with T.V. for a while now. The idea was to have more time for a serious meditation regimen, but that didn’t quite happen. I used to be out, strolling around Carter’s or Yari Road or Juhu Beach, instead of peeling through the layers of my deep, dense sub-conscious mind…which, frankly, didn’t seem to like the intrusion. So I left it alone and was out getting fresh air – and a whole lot of junk food.
So, now, whenever I watch T.V., stuff just seems to stick in my mind. Like pellets of chewing gum on the seat of a bus. Whether it’s a little ticker giving out numbers you could download ring tones from, or opticians who home deliver glasses or innocuous teasers of long forgotten sitcoms. It feels nice, although I am not sure how much good all this trivia is doing to me. Or my sub-conscious, for that matter, that wanted to be left alone in the first place.
But the other day, I caught the tail-end of a Grey’s Anatomy episode. I really liked a line from there. I’d like to have that engraved on my tombstone, should I be buried.
The episode ends with a Voice Over commenting on various statuses of relationships of its ensemble cast. So, there’s a scene of two people hugging and the VO says, “Sometimes, distances reduce.” There’s a scene of two people walking together in silence and the VO says, “It’s ironical that you begin to communicate when you finally shut up.” So on and so forth.
It ends with a lady walking into an empty home. She looks at a crude sketch of some stick figures and remembers her child who had apparently passed away a year ago. As she’s crying, her husband hugs her and she seems grateful for the gesture.
The VO signs off with, “We live and we die…and not necessarily in that order.”
T.V. is worth watching when you see this sort of stuff. And I believe I see this sort of stuff because I don’t watch it that often.