I am often asked just what it is about Doctor Who that inspires such fierce love. It’s a television show. Television shows, as we understand them, are not that important.
The Doctor is a fictitious character. He is created by human beings, not just one but a team of writers that has changed over time. Because his makeup is so thoroughly constructed, he is as complete a being as any of us. But fictitious. This is important.
The Doctor is (as of this writing) over 1200 years old. He’s seen countless species, traveled who knows how many places, seen God knows how many amazing things. And yet, human beings are quite his favorite species. Us. We’re indomitable. We are creatures of hope. We, fragile and flawed as we are, strive for better and we achieve it. He believes in us. All his lives he’s believed in all of us.
I believe that each of us has the capacity to be a lens of the love of our Higher Power, Whoever that might be. I believe that the Universe showers me with love, and that I can reflect it, refract it, magnify it, transmit it – or I can obscure it, cloud it, dampen it, shroud it. I can share or reject or hoard, but hoarded love dies. The most life affirming thing to do is share it.
Through the character of the Doctor, these writers more often than not seem to be sharing love from the Universe with me, and with anyone else who will have it. He’s a lens that refracts it into wonder, appreciation, peaceful intention, adventure – and more aspects of a life enthusiastically lived.
He’s not perfect, any more than you or I. He has dark days, some of them very dark. He makes mistakes, he violates his own morality sometimes. But he tries to do the good thing, the right thing, nearly all the time. And he tries to share life, nearly all the time.