I’ve been watching Masters of Sex, a TV series set in the 1960’s about two researchers and their big study on human sexuality. I don’t really think I like it, or, possibly I just really dislike all the characters.
Still. It has something. One of the few sympathetic characters, the daughter of a doctor colleague of the researcher Dr. Masters, has a series of tough things happen to her. One day, she runs into Dr. Masters, who isn’t at all the kind of person who invites confidences, but something just bursts in her and she says:
”You know how you sometimes just feel so heartsick and everything feels so hopeless, so for just a minute you forget that there are people who love you so much. That you have a family.”
And that is so true. The deceptive nature of unhappiness. The loneliness and despair, making you completely forget that there is this network of people around you, willing to catch you and carry you to shore.
For different reasons, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. About my people. About who they are. Close friends and family. And that it is important to remember them. Take care of them. In this messy life, with dead-lines and meetings and tube rides and parties and broken hearts and worries about the future, it is so easy to forget the people who will come to my rescue in a crisis, no questions asked. Just be there.
I’ve been taking stock. And they’re there. My heroes. But not until the end of time, not without occasional care and attention. So I’m focusing on taking care of my people now. It is me, my thesis and my people who matter this spring. There’ll be time for a lavish social life and adventures later.
Katja Malmborg 