Home Games, Own Goals

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

It is not uncommon for many if not most of us to rail against fate when life doesn’t work out as we had planned/ hoped it would; a train of thought that can prey on the mind with even greater force as we grow old. Whatever manner in which we choose to contemplate dying, there is no getting away from the fact that it involves departing the known for the unknown, leaving those closest to us, hoping and/ or praying that their love which has sustained us in life will continue to do so in death. 

Those who subscribe to a religion tell me that this is where Faith comes into its own. Now, that well may be, but - as regular readers know - I subscribe to no contemporary world religion and see myself as a pantheist rather than either atheist or agnostic. It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong; what matters is whatever leaves mind-body-spirit feeling at ease rather than fearful. 

An old schoolfriend, the last time I visited him before he died, confided that he was less scared of dying than full of regrets for being, as he saw it, one of life’s losers. He had been a closet gay person all his life, having grown up, as I had, in the grip of a society that was essentially homophobic. Hopefully, I managed to convince him that his life as a teacher had touched many young lives for the better, cause for celebrating a life rather than regretting it. 

Oh, how I empathised, though. While I had eventually emerged from that particular closet myself, and doing so had brought a welcome relief from years of loneliness, it would always fall short of the stuff of which dreams are made. Never had I envisaged growing old alone, for example, as I do now. Yet, I don’t think of myself as one of life’s so-called ‘losers’ albeit no ‘winner either… 

So, how do we measure our losses and gains? Not in material terms if we have any sense (no disrespect to the ethos of legitimate wealth intended.) Suffice to say, perhaps, there is far more to the idiom ‘to each one’s own’ than any dictionary can supply. 

I once read life being described as a ‘beautiful game’. Certainly, it can be… sometimes.  I guess it depends on whatever motivates the player/s. Such is the complexity of human nature, it is always worth remembering that ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; yet another idiom to bear in mind, of course, is that ‘One man’s meat is another man’s poison.’ Whatever, while our mind-body-spirit may well let close family members and friends access certain parts, its whole remains ourselves to know (for better, for worse) and no one else. (True, there are many among us who will argue that God sees and judges us for all that we are, but these are the same people who may well also argue that we are His creation…) 

To err may well be human, but all we human beings are vulnerable, no more so than to the various pressures imposed on us by our own hopes and dreams, nor any less so by such expectations of those who matter most to us others as persistently haunt mind-body-spirit. 

We can but let mind-body-spirit find its own way in life, remind ourselves that we are loved and do our best to let that love be its greater driving force while remaining true to ourselves.

HOME GAMES, OWN GOALS

Fate, all things to all people,
often the butt of games we choose
to play rather than lose face
by accepting our share of any blame
for whatever fault it may take
to make a loser of any one of us, have us
fall or give us a break

Fate, at whose whim some argue
the world turns, for better or worse
as the case may be, no telling
how a dice may fall, Lady Luck mistress
to creatures great and small,
as likely as any deity in time’s watchful eye
to have us rise or fall 

Fate, all things to all consciousness,
any excuse better than none as it mulls
past-present-future, warts ‘n’ all,
leaning on its strengths to put any failings
aside, encouraging the world
to see it for such potential as supplies history
with all but the last word 

Fate, cat-and-mouse games teasing us
to make the most (or least) of humanity’s
common quest for purpose
and meaning enough to let mind-body-spirit,
wherever, whomsoever,
(and whatever form it takes) have the measure
of its own joie de vivre 

Win some, lose some, the games people play
come what may…

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

[Note This poem-post also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RNT