When I read this, I connected it to something I was feeling. Nothing to do with with the time and place of the book, but on a personal level, watching what I had spent years working for professionally, (I mean my vocation here, not my career) just wiped out. So there was a real sense of loss. I was grieving for a time that had gone, for values that had disappeared - in the blink of an eye really - and no-one around me that I talked to really seemed to get it. To some extent, yes, they did, but it wasn't the same. They didn't seem to be grieving as I was. When I read The Wave speech, it was like being given a life raft, because he articulated something that for me was just too raw and it was just wonderful, because someone else could see the high water mark that was in my heart. From that point, the epigraph just leapt out at me, and the book suddenly became absolutely hilarious, in a way that it hadn't been before. Pain and humour just walk hand-in-hand at times.
Because it has become a very personal book to me, it has changed me in other ways. I find myself saying, "Buy the ticket, take the ride" at quite unexpected times, and I do (though not to the same extent - I'd never survive!). And I am much more likely to be a lot more assertive than I was. People who know me would have said that wasn't possible; (
) I have a certain reputation in that area. The truth is, it comes a lot more easily nowadays. It could be my age, of course, but I think, without really intending to, that I have soaked up a little of the Good Doctor.
Fantastic discussion, Liz and DIDHOT, BTW. I think you have excelled yourselves. Sorry I couldn't get involved more.
"Luck... inspiration... both only really happen to you when you empty your heart of ambition, purpose, and plan; when you give yourself, completely, to the golden, fate-filled moment."