The Mr Rochester Principle

I received my first copy of Jane Eyre when I was 10.

I opened it and read the beginning:

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.”

I’d like to say that, from then on, I was hooked.

But I’d be lying.

I didn’t get much further than the first page, although I was proud to have the book on my shelf.

When I was about 13, I took the book down and dusted it off.

I opened it and, this time, read right through to the closing line.

And I loved it.

I’ve read it many times since.

Fast forward to May 16^th 2016, Surprise Day. Surprisingly OK

Arriving at The Surprise venue it was, appropriately, raining. (If you don’t know why I think it appropriate that we had rain at the start, read Jane Eyre.)

Heads down, hurrying through the rain, there was no possibility of my parents and I taking a walk that day, either.

We could definitely sit though.

In a theatre.

The best seats in the theatre, no less.

The Surprise was tickets at the opening night of Jane Eyre – The Ballet.

Best. Surprise. Ever.

But why was it such a good surprise?

I am not one of those people who began taking dancing lessons at the age of minus 1.

I didn’t pirouette out of my mother’s womb.

In fact, apart from a brief desire to take ballet lessons when I was 6 – because everyone else was – I had no interest in ballet.

I loved going to the theatre, but not to see a ballet.

Plays, musicals and concerts were more my thing.

Much more.

I went fairly regularly.

Then I didn’t go at all.

For years.

Because I’d lost my hearing. memoir

Eventually, after many theatre-less years, someone suggested I go and see a ballet.

I rejected the idea.

I didn’t even like ballet.

So I sat at home.

Not going to the theatre.

I couldn’t go as I wanted to – hearing what went on – so I wouldn’t go at all.

As the saying goes, I was ‘cutting off my nose to spite my face.’

But that was fine with me.

Then one day, a friend had a spare ticket to the ballet.

Simultaneously, my nose decided that it didn’t like being cut off.

So, between my friend and my nose, I was persuaded.

Just before Christmas that year, I went to see The Nutcracker.

To be honest, I didn’t really follow it very well.

But I was back sitting on a red velvet seat in a theatre.

And it felt great.

Not the same as before.

Before, there had not been a ballet shoe in sight.

But before wasn’t coming back.

Now was here, though.

And now gave me two choices.

Concentrate on what used to be.

Or focus on what is.

I went for the latter.

Concerts are what used to be.

And yes, I miss them.

But ballet is what is.

I don’t need to hear it.

And, you know what?

‘Is’ is surprisingly ok.

I’ll never be a ballet expert.

But I am someone who has learned to enjoy it.

And that’s why a ticket to the ballet was the Best Surprise Ever.

It recognised who I am now.

Yet at the same time linked it with part of my past that still is.

The ‘My name is Emily and I am a bookworm’ part.

In Jane Eyre, one of the characters, Mr Rochester, loses his sight.

Jane asks him, “Can you see me?”

“No: but I am only too thankful to hear you.”

The Mr Rochester Principle.

It’s a good one….