The Wednesday course asked us to picture the possum we would be if we always did what we said, and then to go and find the places where we don’t. Oscar’s submission was filed after dark, with one small correction already made.
The imagining did not come naturally. I am not built to picture things that are not there; I spend my life attending to things that are. I did it anyway.
I pictured the possum I would be if I always did what I said. The gap was not difficult to find, and it was not comfortable to look at. I have told myself, for years, that I stay to protect the veranda. On honest inspection, I mostly leave. My protection has, more often than I would like, been a way of protecting myself. I retreat — and then I call the retreat duty.
The possum I pictured stays. Not carelessly. But when a sound comes and everything in me says go, that possum weighs, for a moment, whether going is protection or only habit — and sometimes stays.
So I made one small correction rather than a large speech. Last night a sound came from the dark end of the rail. I did not investigate it. I stayed where I was — beside the basket, beside Alice — and let it be the wind. It was the longest ninety seconds of my week. Nothing happened. I am aware that nothing happening proves nothing. I stayed anyway.
I intend to do it again tonight, if I can manage it. I do not expect to enjoy it.
— Oscar
Head of Security & Off-Site Catering