Another book suggested by a friend. A novel this time. As usual, spoilers ahead.
The story is simple: an unhappy young woman tries to end her life and finds herself in an in-between space — not quite alive or dead. She is in a library of infinite books, and her kind school librarian is her guide in this bewildering space.
Each book represents a different life that she might have lived had she made different choices. As she lies not quite dead in her root life, she has some time in this liminal space to try on any of those other lives and choose to continue to live out the one she is most happy in.
However, she has limited time, because it is not certain if she will live or die in her root life. The time is midnight, and as long as the clock does not tick ahead, she can try out as many lives as she would like. So, the adventure begins in the Midnight Library.
Interestingly, the first book she picks up is the Book of Regrets — a record of all the small and big regrets in her life. A big, fat, heavy book. But it’s also a book where regrets get erased once they have been seen for what they are.
So she starts to live different versions of her life where her main regrets get fulfilled, but she discovers that none of them are really perfect. If she is a famous rock star in one life, someone she loves is not alive in that version. When she is an Olympic swimmer, she is lonely and depressed. Even the version where she has a loving husband, an expensive car, and a beautiful daughter does not quite stick. Each of them offers her a missing piece, but none of them truly satisfy.
Whenever she finds herself disappointed with a version of life that she had yearned for, she is yanked back to the library to grieve that which may have been, and with that, one more regret is erased, and the Book of Regrets becomes increasingly lighter.
The end is not a surprise — she returns to her root life, but with a renewed zest for life, and that makes all the difference. She did not change her past, but her relationship with her past.
We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one.
– Confucius
As I read the book, I wondered what my book of regrets would look like. Are there any unfulfilled dreams? Any unexpressed potential? Briefly, I thought of my childhood fantasy of wanting to play cricket, my desire to teach at Rishi Valley School later, and toying with the possibility of being a midwife after my boys were born.
I did manage to play some cricket in England. It was great fun, especially that one glorious summer week of touring with the Balliol College team to play seven games over seven days in seven different locations around the country, on some of the prettiest cricket grounds.
As for Rishi Valley, in a strange twist of destiny, or call it what you will, I didn’t return to teach at the one place that was my home away from home. Choosing to teach at the Chennai school instead led to meeting my ex-wife, and a marriage of twenty years, and three children. Before my marriage, there was a school trip to the Wayanad Botanical Sanctuary, and I was invited to join them in running their experiential educational program in the midst of one of the most beautiful rainforests of the country, and instead I chose marriage and city life over that! Now, that one I truly regret not saying yes to!
As for wanting to be a midwife, it was, of course, more of a pipe dream, and quite impractical. At least I had the fortune of assisting with the birth of all three of my lovely children, and that’s more than enough for a lifetime.
Thinking about how our lives may have been different had we made different choices is perhaps a common pastime for those of us who have more years behind us than ahead. However, as the book illustrates, what we are really seeking is not so much different experiences of wealth, fame, success, or love, but a sense of aliveness in the here and now. That aliveness comes from potential — what the Midnight Library represents.
With each choice, our experiences take a particular form, and we string these together in hindsight and call it our lives. The beauty of life, however, is that whatever form it takes at a particular moment, often regardless of our seeming choices, the potential always remains infinite — it never runs out. Living from this sense of eternally infinite potential is our sense of aliveness.
When things fall apart, and then again; when it feels like all is lost, and despair swallows us; when we feel stuck and helpless; or in the face of further impending loss; it is always possible to say yes to life, in spite of everything. However, we may need to grieve first, and not rush through the feeling of loss. Grief is really love with nowhere to go. When we grieve fully, we discover that the love never went away.
Featured Image: Photo by Intricate Explorer on Unsplash