Listening for joy

Right now, what’s filling up my consciousness is the TV series Andor.

The whole thing finished a few weeks ago, but we’re a bit slow when it comes to sitting down and watching stuff, so we only just finished it the other night.

I’ve started watching it again, immediately.

It’s that good.

It’s Star Wars, but it’s not really. There are no lightsabers, no Jedis, no weird cute animals and no annoying characters. Even the droid count is extremely low, and very well done. The acting, the dialogue, the sets, the whole damn thing… is absolutely spot on. Grown up TV.

Wikipedia, rather clunkily, describes it as a ‘science fiction political spy thriller drama’ (LOL) and you don’t need to know a damn thing, or even care one iota about Star Wars to sink yourself into its languorous, detail-rich story-telling, its peerless character-building and its buttock-clenching dramatic tension.

(Be warned however, you probably will feel compelled to at least watch Rogue One afterwards… and then quite possibly the first Star Wars instalment—A New Hope—after that, because they both directly continue the story. But you could stop there!)

Anyway, the writing is spectacular. There are many, many rousing, memorable speeches for the ages, about the nature of fascism and the inevitability of its collapse; about the terrible sacrifices that must be made for the greater good; about the insidious nature of propaganda and lies…

(Disclaimer: It is set in a galaxy far, far away, honest 😉)

And there’s this one speech, that kind of passed me by on first viewing, but really hit home for me, second time around. It’s a wedding speech, from the father of the bride, passing on a morsel of wisdom to the young betrothed. I’ve reproduced part of it for you, below.

I want you to read it with this flip chart in mind:

Pain will find you.
Trouble and disagreement
Will arrive without summons.
There’s no choice in this;
There’s no effort required.
You simply stand still
And the Galaxy
Will deliver a daily basket
Of fresh anxieties to your door,
Without fail.

My hope is that you learn
To reach past
This constant cloud of sadness.
Pleasure, gaiety, amusement.
These are the hidden things.
The music buried beneath
All that noise.
Joy. JOY! Joy.

But joy has no wind at its back
Joy will not announce its arrival
You need to listen for it.

It reminds me of another piece of deeply insightful writing. From Hafiz, the 14th Century Sufi poet:

O listen
Listen more carefully
To what is inside of you, right now

There is an astonishing vastness
Of movement and Life

Emanating sound and light
From my folded hands.

And my even quieter
Simple Being
And heart.

~ Hafiz

Yesterday I encouraged you all to notice that “This is it!” … and I don’t see how this is any different, really.

💖

Giles