Birthday 27 December 2000

Pic of the day: A blur of change. View from the train window.

Departure, arrival

I set my Pocket PC to wake me at 8:30, so I could be ready for breakfast at 9. I woke up earlier and considered getting up. While I considered this, I fell asleep again. The Cassiopeia was quite insistent about waking me, however, so I was easily ready for breakfast.

SuperWoman was already up and awaiting me, and we had a nice meal on the various leftovers from yesterday. Some other family members also appeared. We discussed health issues with her father, who has of late suffered heightened cholesterol and some hypertension. He seems quite anxious for his daughter to finish her medical education so she can cure him. We tried to convince him of the benefits of a de-stressed, meditative lifestyle and low-fat diet. This made little impression, as he has somehow convinced himself that he is already eating healtily most of the time.

After the meal and debate, SuperWoman took a last look at the wounds on my back. She removed the threads from the deep cut and washed it with tap water, much to my dismay. But at least the itch was gone for some hours. She put on new compress there, and a modern "second skin" plaster on the more superficial one. She had used those herself on Kilimanjaro.

Her touch actually was somewhat comforting now that I noticed. I guess I could have grown used to that. But of course it is better to not need it. I'm starting to learn that one person is sometimes a little bit too few. Doesn't mean I'm dreaming of a "wife" Christmas, though. :)

***

SW's father kindly drove me to Oslo Central railway station. He had some observation about the Church he left some years ago, where he had been a preaching Brother. And in particular about those who left the Church to make their own. That lot seems to be in a state of splintering, conflict and disarray, if he is to be trusted. I'm not sure he is, due to the circumstances, but he sounds more reflected and impartial than I can ever remember him.

It made me think of myself and my changes (and lack of changes) in the later years. In many ways I seem to have changed less than even most of those who remained in the Church during the "revival" (schism). I think that is because, when all is said and done, humans are not "alone with Jesus". Humans are pack animals and cannot be otherwise. Thus were we created, that we can only be fully human through the company of other humans. But some are more social than others. And I am slightly less.

Parents love their children, and that is a good thing. Parents wish all the best for their children. And christian parents dearly wish their children to be saved and come to Heaven. And because we humans are human, we tend to believe what we hope. And so christian parents will eventually believe that their children are christians even though they don't have a personal life with Christ, but only the outer forms that growing up in a christian family brings. I suppose this stems from the idea that you'll burn in hell if you're not a christian, and of course people can't really imagine their children burning in hell. And so eventually any christian congregation that holds on to the conventional idea of hell, is doomed to be overwhelmed by "God's grandchildren", people who are raised to act like christians.

I was not raised that way. I was given only a few rules, and my father eventually bought a Bible that I could read after I had shown great interest in an old convoluted Danish-Norwegian translation which also lacked whole pages where my autist uncle had got his hand on it. I was not programmed with a religion, but with the expectation that I would have the light within myself, that I would know in time what to chose for myself - in religion, politics, even sexuality. Whatever religion there is in my life, is between my God and me. It is not to impress my fellow believers, nor will I forsake it to win the goodwill of my friends who are either atheists or belong to other faiths.

In a way, I never felt that I departed from the Church. Rather, I stayed behind when it moved on.

***

Today, however, I moved on, and others stayed behind. But this time I was going home. It was with mixed feelings I made the train trip from Oslo to Kristiansand. A soft white carpet of light snow covered the vast empty tracts along the railroad. Behind me were perhaps most of my few remaining friends in the physical world. And the one I love above all, though she will never be able to feel the same way about me. That's OK, because it is not a love of need. As long as I know she is living the life she truly wants, I am satisfied too.

It was nearly dusk when I came home. I had let some electric heating stay on, so the flat should not freeze over. To my great surprise, I found that the door to the storage rooms was ajar. This has happened fairly regularly in earlier winters too, when I went to work and came home to find the door ajar and the livingroom rather cold. Unless there are gremlins in the place, I suspect the landlord is locking himself in and setting up that door. Once, long ago, the water froze in the pipes that pass through these rooms. The pipes are insulated now, but I suspect that an irrational fear of frozen pipes drives the landlord to do this again and again. I don't know anyone else who has the keys.

Be that as it may, it was barely 15 degrees Celsius. Not dangerously cold, but definitely uncomfortable. Even my computer did not manage to heat the room, but I've turned up the heat and it is improving now. I've been online and caught up with online comics, debate fora and even a diary. It's good to have my own phone line again!

But it was good to have a smile across the breakfast table too, and a cheerful "Happy birthday, Magnus!".