Let’s Go.

Posted: August 9, 2013 in Essays
Tags: , , , , ,

ImageI’ve seen Doctor Who. The last seven seasons, pretty much as they came out. Recently, however, I introduced the good Doctor to my girlfriend. She had the good taste of becoming a fan only a few episodes in. And, if I would have let her, would have gobbled them all up without me around. But I decided I wanted to experience them again with her.

As I’d watched the last season, I had noticed that some important elements of the overall plot had effectively swiss-cheesed in my head (to reference another time traveling show), and, so, felt disjointed. And there’s a new Doctor coming, so I wanted to be ready for that–see all that I could see in the hopes that I would find myself more prepared for that change at the end than I currently did. Because, to be more kind to change that I feel toward it, I don’t like it. So, I sat with her and re-watched these amazing shows once again, hoping to gird myself.

Things were clearer this time around. Small, but integral, plot points reappeared for me and made what had been thirteen or fourteen episode storylines tie together into a cohesive whole.

But it was watching this man with two hearts–this Doctor–who could seemingly live forever, was a hero’s hero, could travel across time and space and beat up any big bad that dared face him with only his wits, all with the restraint and grace of a saint (most times, anyway). It was watching this man who had everything that we could imagine wanting out of life: freedom, power, eternal youth and verve, and seeing his loneliness. Seeing a man that seems to have it all troubled and dealing with loss and pain and disappointment and rejection… dealing with life. It reminded me.

It reminded me that all of those things I believe will push away the stench of death, the pain of loss, the looming spectre of life’s end, even the daily fear of falling face first into failure, will, as a point in fact, not. That’s the Doctor’s gift to me. That’s the creative force behind that show’s gift to me–a reminder that I am capable of freedom and strength and bravery and grace without a time traveling Tardis, all of time and space to explore and a cool bowtie. It’s a choice, whether in the face of Daleks or an unkind boss.

So, bring the change. Bring this new man who probably won’t wear bow ties or leather jackets, or even say quirky things in French. Because I’m reminded again that change is inevitable, change is happening whether we’re ready for it or not. And, sometimes, probably more often that we are aware, change can be good.



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