We live in an age that rewards positivity beyond all else, that expects equality in all things and vilifies discrimination. Empathy is quite correctly cultivated, allowing support, and understanding for all manner of situations and choices. These encouraging thoughts and words are the correct and measured response in ninety-nine and a half percent of life’s multitudinous twists and turns, but on occasion the only real, honest, truthful interjection is a short, blunt to the point of rudeness, ‘DO PLEASE STOP’, or just plain ‘NO’!
I am as guilty as most in my lack of forthrightness, but not I admit for reasons of genteelness. My word has ever carried significance, has more often been obeyed than ignored, my advice automatically given weight quite probably far beyond its true significance. Words of instruction, such as proceed, stop, no, and yes carry with them a responsibility to see matters to a conclusion, to stay focused on the issue at hand till resolved. Age does not meld well with elongated authority or influence, the ability to see every issue to an end doth plainly wain when years increase. The very continuance of just ‘being’ requires an ever more abundant trove of effort and focus, meaning a decided reduction in supplementary peripheral attention. If I cannot donate my all I would much rather adopt a studied neutrality than an occasional and imperfect interference. Silence, however, is never an easy course to follow thoughts are bound to swell from diagnosis that by natural process is certain to continue, and from the pondering is propagated inference, words, provocations that might well be better trapped behind hard clenched teeth, and steely gray wolverine like eyes.
The temptation to arbitrate ever remains, to share the vast compendium of solid gold advice and reason an age had gifted, heaped unceremoniously upon backs already bent from arduous Herculean labor in the stables of King Augeas, or more likely the occasional languid stretch.
An offer is made, accepted, or declined according to the prevailing wind direction and applicable compass point, hailing perhaps a hero one day, and an errant fool the next.
One thought on “22nd September 2020”
Perhaps a hero be day or an errant fool the next…. or both, depending upon circumstance….the luck of the draw, culmination of effort and strife, of breath and scope and outlook. And luck, sweet Lady Luck.