Dealing with Absence in Life's Matrix
Andrew Bluett-Duncan
Director
Preamble
We have had a somewhat stressful week these last 7 days, with people on holiday, a couple of people away sick and one resignation due to ill health which is very sad for everyone, not least the individual concerned. And this has left me no time to write the email or for Andi and Paul to get new product on the website. So, in short, we’re stuffed! And so dear reader, are you, if you’ve become accustomed to hanging on my every word (or snorting in disagreement) on Saturday mornings at 6.00am. However, in an effort to not entirely be beaten by circumstances, I thought I’d get another Nick to write my email for me. No, not the handsome, debonair, X5 driving, managing director of Dayes Ltd (that should have increased my discount with a bit of luck), he had his turn three weeks ago. No, instead I’ve chosen Nick Cave, the singer song writer, he of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
You may have observed that from time to time I find his words full of compassion, insight and original thought. And this week, in my inbox, was an extraordinary example of a powerful question from a young male fan, asking for advice on his split from his girlfriend. It immediately took me back 50 odd years to when Sarah, my first girlfriend, and I split up and the agony I experienced going through that. I’ll say right at the start, that if this outline doesn’t speak to you, then I won’t waste any more of your Saturday morning. Usually, I’d redirect you to the bottom of the email where I’m attempting to sell you something, often in a slightly half-hearted way. But today, there’s nothing there. So, its Hajra, Nick, or nothing!
This is the letter from a fan of his, named Hajra:
I’m having a bit of trouble in my teen years… someone I hold dear very dear has gone. She’s gone and I’m still here and she’s not dead, but I’m unable to get in contact with her for reasons the cosmic universe chose for me. We very much love each other but it was time to part. She’s reminded me that this matrix is worthwhile and she’s shown me that I’m worth it too. Dear Nick, I miss her. I miss her. I miss her. |
And this is Nick’s reply: This brave and beautiful letter is full of youthful longing and preternatural wisdom. Your understanding that ‘this matrix is worthwhile’ is an insight it took many of us a lifetime to figure out. You seem to comprehend and accept the wayward mechanics of love—frequently unfair, even cruel, but the animating principle of the world nonetheless. Ultimately, a broken heart or an obstructed love is proof of life, for there is nothing as wildly expansive as the yearning heart. It proclaims our existence as part of the universe. We hurt deeply because we love deeply. The dead heart, the dull heart, the cynical heart, the unimaginative heart, the unredeemed heart, resides outside the law of life, disconnected and unnatural, for we are creatures made to love, duty-bound to do so. I’m sorry you miss your friend, Hajra, but I am pleased that in your temporary pain (your heart will mend in time) you have not rejected the world but live inside its broken poetry. This distressing but sometimes necessary place teaches us that, as you so powerfully put it, ‘this matrix is worthwhile’. This is as lovely a thought as it is possible to have. I wish you well and thank you for your beautiful words. Love, Nick |
Living as we most of us do, within the worlds’ broken poetry (what lovely words for imperfection and idiosyncrasies), may I wish you a pleasant and peaceful weekend.
Warm regards,
Andrew
Andrew Bluett-Duncan
Director
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