Of Just Being...

I remember watching the last film that Peter Sellers starred in. It was called Being There, I don't really rate the last film he did which was The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu. No, in my mind at least, the last really good thing he did was to portray Chance the gardener in Being There.

The plot of the film was fairly simple and straight forward. Chance has been in an isolated life from infancy. His only contact to the outside world has been through the television. His sole purpose in life has been to maintain the gardens of his employer/guardian. When his employer dies, he is ousted from his lifelong home and meets a lady who will be instrumental in getting Chance involved with politics.

Throughout the entire film Chance is just there. He offers nothing in the way of real interaction with the people he meets. They all read into Chance what they need to. He is merely a mirror that they use to get the answers they seek. For Chance is in an almost holy sphere, the sphere of just being. The holiness is hinted at in the last few frames of the film where we the audience see Chance walking across water. This Christ-like ability is possible because Chance doesn't realise that he cannot walk on water.

The point of all this film plot musing is this, Chance had reached (through no fault or endeavour of his own) the ability of just being. I have mixed feelings about this. One part of me feels that it would be truly wonderful to just be. Not influencing or affecting anyone or anything else. A truly Zen-like existence that doesn't hurt, or please, or disturb.

The other part of me is horrified at the very idea. How horrible to be in this world and accomplish nothing but just being there. That would surely be like living in some sort of Hell. You would feel almost like a ghost. For in reality, unlike the story in the film, if you did not interact with the people who surround you; you would be ignored.

I had this thought yesterday. I was attending the funeral of a comrade. It was a lovely service and it was the first time I had seen many of the folks that I usually work with in a couple of months. I have been "off-work" due to a work related injury.  The event was a sombre one with everyone wrapped up in their own thoughts and memories of a lovely chap gone too soon.

It was not until I reached home that I realised that I had only spoken to four people. Apart from being told where to stand after I got there, I instigated the other (extremely short) conversations that occurred. I did not think anything of it at the time. I was under the influence of "heavy duty" painkillers and suffering muscle spasms down my right leg. So I was more than a little bit preoccupied myself.

It was this morning when I woke up that I had a momentary feeling of just being there. I felt that I had been a ghost at the funeral and was still a ghost. I felt that my presence anywhere was minimal.  But rather than this idea or feeling depressing or upsetting me, it just felt right. I am at this point and time in my life happy at the thought of just being here.

I don't have the energy to be anything else.