In Progress

Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she could ever grow as calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.

Slow-speaking when she has some fact to tell,
Silent with long-unbroken silences,
Centred in self yet not unpleased to please,
Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.

Mindful of drudging daily common things,
Patient at pastime, patient at her work,
Wearied perhaps but strenuous certainly.

Sometimes I fancy we may one day see
Her head shoot forth seven stars from where they lurk
And her eyes lightning and her shoulders wings.

I love this Christina Rossetti poem. It’s from 1862, but it wasn’t published until 1896. Do you, just as I, find it pleasent to ponder how you move forwards in life? Or at least sideways… (When I come to think of it: Any spatial movement is a reason to celebrate!) 😉

I do love to read this poem out loud, very slow, resting at the sounds from the end of the lines, like the sound of the letter S as if it where the snake from Paradise.

Omvänd Bortbyting
You’re like a child in a new playground… Not sure where to go.

I moved around quite often when I was a kid and I remember that when we moved I used to think that the movement in space also was a moment for renewal. KInd of like the confession, rebooting yourself. When I was nine years old I even asked my mother to help me out and help me make a fake “bautasten”, a large stone just like the one Obelix used to carry.

I guess I was a kid with a lot of fantasy. I pictured how the kids at the new place we where moving to would all see me carrying that giant (wool?) stone thinking it was a real and heavy one and I imagined that the kids at the new place would get so impressed and they would think that this nine year old kid called Joakim was really really strong. They would think I was just like Obelix: Strong and kind.

My mother never made me that stone and instead of being famous at my new school I was just like most of the other boys: Neither very strong, nor very kind.

My actual rolemodel as a kid.

I know I’m a ponderer… Sometimes I like to search for friends from my past. Do you ever do that? I know a lot of my own friends have died but there are a lot of names from my early teens (or from before) many years ago. I do searches every other year. Mostly I find my childhood friends when something bad has happened to them:

J. B. was badly beaten and almost died a couple of years ago. The insurance company refused to pay him any money since he was so badly beaten that he couldnt remember that he did not cause it… (No one thinks he did, he just can’t prove he didn’t). There was a picture of him. He looked so similar as he did twentyfive years ago. I last met him 1981 or 1982… I also find recording that he and his band had done over the years. If anyone from my childhood would ever become a musican it would be him. It made me so happy to listen to the music he and his band had recorded. Most of us can’t keep up with our dreams. This man has evolved his teenage dreams to art. I recognise the kind: He’s a changeling, just like you and me.

J. I. another friend of mine, is a musician and played at his fathers funeral along with his daughter Sophia… I was glad to see that my friend had a daughter. I also remember how I thought his father was a kind man. I last met my childhood friend 1973…

And then again: there are also the sites like “Stay Friends” and “Facebook” where you can find classmates that havent had a recent misery. On the other hand it seems like they all have had boring lives: 80% or 90% of my childhood classmates on those sites still lives in the area where we went to school…

Isn’t that strange? I mean that some of them stay put, is kind of nice. Even if as much as half of them had stayed, I would just have said: “Good for them”, Borås, or Visby, or Staffanstorp is all very boring places but nice, I guess in some ways. I would not waste another moment on the subject… But this was not the case. If I and maybe one or two of my friends (the two mentioned above) are the only one who has moved along then I can’t help feeling a bit sad for those who stayed. Like they are missing out on something. I guess most of them are happy with what they have – but still: I find it so very odd… (I don’t know if this says more about them or about me…)

Well, since then I lived my life, high and low.. (This isn’t the time and place to tell you about it.) I’ve gone from a person with “no permanent address or moral” to this fat IT dude that I seem to be today.. 😉 The last few years I have found my home in the Catholic church and this semester I’m writing my thesis in Computer science…

Ten years ago it seemed impossible

Can’t wash that feeling off though: Everybody was sure I would be dead and long gone by now. Sorry guys, I’m a Changeling. Going from decadent to decent. in constant progress as well as in permanent loss.

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