THE FT PARADOX

Is there anything that you find fascinating but don't really want to know about?

I know that sounds like a bit of a contradiction, but I have something that falls into that pot and it bothers me a bit. What's more, this particular thing is actually supposed to be a mystery, so the more I find out about it, the more I feel I shouldn't, and don't want to.

"It's quite normal at the moment," said Megan, "No different really." Adam was beaming.

"I don't think it's as difficult as writing an accounts sheet or a systems manual," he said. I smiled. I have absolutely no idea.

I'm talking about growing a baby of course. Megan and Adam are expecting and I'm caught in that fascinated-terrified paradox again.

My problem is detail. There are some things I just don't want to know, in fact I don't even want to think about them. Yet at the heart of the mystery, it's all about the detail isn't it? And listen to women talking about it, and detail will leap into the conversation faster than you can sheepishly say, 'Excuse me ladies, I seem to have mislaid my power tools...'

It happens everyday, all over the world, this extraordinary, wonderful process. A woman carries another person... actually inside her, wrapped in the dark mystery of the womb. What does that feel like? (I will never know) How does it happen? (I have a rough idea) and what changes happen when? (and we're back in the paradox; I genuinely don't want to know).

Except I sort of do. So I asked the usual questions. Megan said, "No, thankfully, but everyone's been asking me that," and then she held her fingers a few inches apart and said, "Um... maybe an avocado."

Which surprised me. Normally it's a peanut or a jelly baby. Incidentally, why is it always compared to food?

So this is the fascinated-terrified paradox. I hope it doesn't come across as being weirdly intrigued by a mystery that's much better kept a mystery. Similarly, I hope it doesn't look like I'm squeamish and distant about the details.

In that regard then, I'm a bit like a moth, flitting about in the candlelight: interested but wary, distant but not remote. Maybe one day I'll figure out the flame and it'll all make more sense.

Until then I'll probably be looking for my power tools.