An Alien Limb, Imaginary Friends, and Formidable Passion

Today a neurologist confirmed I have "alien limb syndrome" - the sensation my "left leg" is acting of its own accord. That would account for my left leg saying, "Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow," when I retire to bed each night. Also, why it wakens me during my blessed sleep to deliver a Shakespearean soliloquy; usually one of Macbeth’s troubled musings, which I now find tiresome. Then it has the audacity to say to me in a mocking tone, "How poor are they that have not patience".

To make matters worse - following a long speech - my left leg then wishes to put forward "Topics for Debate!" For example: "Was Hamlet ever less than sane?" This coming from a leg that walks away during conversations! leans against trees! bleeds for no apparent reason; a blatant attention-seeker! runs errands for neighbours without my permission or knowledge! Even writing about my plight I find it hard to breathe. Medications do not help. I will have to suffer the unremitting misery until it runs off and joins the circus or becomes a "stand-in" for Tom Hanks.

As a child I had two imaginary friends called Happiness and Pleasure. Today - to my surprise - they arrived at my door. Happiness still had a kindly smile, was clever, quick-witted, had soft blue eyes, and spoke in a gentle tenor voice. Pleasure still looked beautiful, expressive dark-blue eyes, was more mysterious than Happiness, was in a seductive party mood, and still possessed a heart of ravaging immaturity. I had no words for them. I was silent and listened.

"Where have you been hiding? Are you afraid we will tarnish your reputation? You have been leading a quiet life. We see you occasionally meet friends, go to concerts, watch films, and write ... Of course, we have been delighted by your successes, and saddened by your .... well ... failures."

I sank into a chair after pouring my "old" friends tea, and handing out plates of sandwiches and cakes.

I spoke softly, " I usually stay in. Well, that's not exactly true. Nothing is. I'm still watchful, impatient ... Indeed, some times I become spring-like. I have bouts of creativity that lead to excitement. As you see, I do not wear black, but every colour known to humankind. Have you met my new friend, Loneliness?"

"Indeed, s/he looks cold," said Happiness. " Full of poison, bereft of dreams .... Is s/he a valuable companion?"

"Loneliness is certainly not beautiful. Though s/he does occasionally laugh, is faithful, and can be terribly jealous of Happiness and Pleasure. Loneliness reminds me that everything becomes dull sooner or later. Also, that from the very beginning our hearts carry the seeds of our destruction."

We parted on good terms. They disappeared without a sound. I can't deny that my life with Happiness and Pleasure was not of benefit to me - a voyage of discovery - but one can have too much applause, and forget that our audience changes, sometimes daily. Futhermore, the ground beneath one's feet is not solid for ever, if indeed it ever was/is?

Reflections: There is much to be said for clarity of thought. In fact, it may breed clarity of passion. The last thing one should do is waste time in pursuit of something - or someone - that does not arouse a deep passion.

Sometimes we may be capable of only one "great" passion in life. Love for an individual, love for composing music, love for writing poetry, prose.

My advice, for what it is worth? Discover your passion(s) early. Pursuit it/them with all strength and resolve. Stay away from people who crave your downfall - their secrets, not their insincerity, will betray them - and reach your potential before the earth extinguishes all trace of your existence.