I have always been fascinated with that split second just before everything takes a sharp turn and changes for the better or for the worst; that moment before you become an entirely different person. What does that look like, and are there any hints of the upcoming earthquake? Is the air shimmering around you as the energy of your destiny is reaching critical mass?
Oddly enough I got to watch that on film yesterday. When I need a break from my own life, I tend to become a voyeur in the lives of others. I therefore have a weakness for reality TV. And since I absolutely refuse to pay for cable, I tend to pick a series that is a few years old but available on Youtube and watch that.
So I’ve been watching Big Brother Australia from 2012 lately. One of the more loveable housemates is named Josh. You can just tell he’s an all around decent person. Then… there it was. One minute he’s laughing and joking with everyone, and the next he gets called away, only to find out that his brother died of a heart attack at age 32. Needless to say, he left the show, but first he came back to say goodbye to everyone. And you could tell he was a different person.
After I saw that, I backed up and watched him from before the news. Yup. Different. Definitely. But no warning signs. It’s not like his aura started growing dim or turning black. There was no alarm sounding that the world was ignoring. It’s just that one minute he was care free, and the next he was in shock. I’ve definitely been there.
I think the reason I am so obsessed with transitional moments is that I hope that if I see some sort of warning signal, maybe I can fend off the fickle finger of fate before it touches me next time around. But alas, it isn’t to be. There was nothing Josh could have seen to prevent the train of his life from jumping the tracks. That’s just how life is. When you allow yourself to fully grasp that fact it can be quite terrifying indeed. But it also makes you appreciate every precious second of routine that you get.
Much belated condolences, Josh.