Confessions

'The wild geese doe not intend to cast their reflection; the lake has no mind to receive their image' - Chuang Tzu 

I am beginning to understand what Dostoevsky said about the need to confess. As one reaches old age, we need to state our truth - to tell our story - not to receive absolution, but simply to set down how we have passed though this world, before our lives dissolve like a bubble on the surface of the lake. 

The need to confess doesn’t absolutely require another person to listen, but if one is fortunate enough to have a friend who can hear one’s story without interruption and most importantly, non-judgementally, I imagine that is more satisfying than talking to a therapist or simply making a recording. We may like those close to us to listen or we may not - but either way, we shouldn’t confess to our spouse, as there may be aspects of the relationship that may be less than ideal and there is no need to go looking for trouble! Furthermore the issue of ‘other women’ will almost certainly arise in any long life, and the purpose of confessing is certainly not to cause pain or give rise to doubts that could poison what’s left of one’s time together. So, men should confess to other men with the clear understanding that any secrets will be securely kept.

Another aspect of this is the desire to tell other people’s stories too. In my case, this takes the form of writing obituaries for those close to me, and substantial eulogies if asked to speak at their funerals. It seems wasteful to me not to record all one can of someone’s life, as otherwise they pass through almost without trace as far as the world is concerned, except for the memories and mementos in the keeping of their families. This is one reason I take so many photos, as I can usually summon up photos to accompany an obituary, to add colour to friends’ lives. Crucially now too, the internet allows such things to be made public - though in practice only someone that knows the obituary had been written will find it.