I have to admit that I am bursting to write this blog just a bit. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t written in awhile or maybe it’s the subject matter. It has been slow evolving in my mind because of that good old self doubt talking: no one wants to hear about Dr. Who! (please picture that being said in a sharp, guttural hiss and you have my self doubt voice), but then I thought of Lesley Crewe, a Nova Scotian novelist, who says she writes for herself and not others, so I thought to hell with it then, Lesley, let’s give it a go!
Dr. Who came into our lives the summer of 2018.
He took over my heart. I think that’s the way with most Whovians.
Why? Let me grab my list:
- He’s kind
- His first instinct is to save rather than kill
- While he is technically an alien, he makes mistakes, and is clumsy and awkward, which makes him entirely too human
- While he seems mild mannered and a bit nerdy, he can be a hard ass!
- He’s feels so badly for the vulnerable and sad; a kinder, more compassionate soul, you will never meet
- He has amazingly tough decisions to make. He knows it. He feels badly about it. But he makes them and moves forward.
- Sometimes though his only solution at the time is to just run, for the safety of his companions and to provide him with some thinking time.
A few additional pieces of the Doctor’s puzzle worth knowing: he lives a very lonely existence without the company of his traveling companions. They vary in character. Sometimes they can be a love interest (who could be blamed) or in the words of Donna Noble, “you are not mating with me, Sunshine” indicating others will be a strict friendship. His spaceship is actually a British police call box from the 1960’s and he likes to use a lot of superlatives such as fantastic! brilliant! amazing!, which is not unlike Elvis in concert. Just saying. Oh, and one more thing, he never dies. He regenerates. Which means every so often he changes his appearance (and currently his gender).
The Doctor doesn’t want others, particularly his friends, to be sad. This characteristic makes him appear too childlike in nature, but I assure you, he is not. Take a listen:
“The way I see it, every life is a pile of good and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things but vice versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant.” And who would know better than he? A two-hearted alien who has lived for at least 2000 years now.
My bad pile consists of things like self-doubt, guilt, anxiety, and a lot of sadness. I get hurt easily and do not take things well a lot of times. Even worse, I sometimes put myself in situations knowing I will feel any one or all of these things. My pile and your pile will be different because of our own challenging experiences. But I believe that together we can help strengthen our good piles with the simplest of gestures. Here’s what increases the “goods” for me: a zillion pings on my staff messenger group when I am out walking. That tells me others are out there communicating right now whom I know and love; reading to my niece’s children on video and then hearing how much they loved it because I love them and they are a connection to our Gauthier family; face timing with my brother and his wife, laughing about stuff that we probably shouldn’t be laughing about; walking, writing, and watching TV with my girls; getting my house in order. There are so many, many ways that we can load up that good pile. Many we take for granted. So when the lonesomeness overwhelms me or that old voice of doubt invades my space, I call upon the “goods” to get me through. I encourage you to do the same, my lovelies.
Now I hear you saying, but Missy, this is a fictional character. There is no such thing as Dr. Who. (My self doubting voice can also be a bit placating, and use my childhood nickname). Yes the bow-tied doctor in the video is Matt Smith in his dreamy self, and no we are not capable of regeneration as with this fictional character. But I do believe a little bit of Dr. Who, or maybe even a lot, exists in each of us.
And believe me, that is definitely one for the good pile!
Until next time,