“A Few of Life’s Regrets”
As I begin writing yet
another epistle, I am not entirely certain as to where this is taking me. However, as I always do, I will give it a
shot and hope for the best. As I enter a
new year, however, it seems like a good time to embark on a few personal
reflections.
When I started writing this
blog just over two years ago, I did so because I had a lot of free time on my
hands and a great many unsettled feelings about a variety of issues. I sought neither fame nor fortune but,
rather, to see what if any gems might be buried within the vast labyrinths of
that gradually calcifying cranial tissue residing within the limited space
allocated to it within my skull. I was
writing for myself but thought there was no harm to be done by sending it out
to the far reaches of cyberspace, leaving the merits of my efforts to be determined
by the wisdom of others. I found I
touched the lives of some, pissed off some and inspired a surprising number of
others along the way. So, it was not
altogether in vain. I filed the
beginning of this and a few random thoughts away and, frankly, forgot about
them. For some strange reason, I just
happened upon these words on, of all days, Thanksgiving. Perhaps there is something prophetic about
that.
The prose and ideas may not
flow with the fluidity of professional writing, but that is one of the
attendant hazards of this type of writing, particularly when one treads on
those aspects of his being that may not be terribly easy to face nor to
articulate. Is it just a personal
catharsis or does it serve a greater purpose?
I really don’t know.
I have developed a passionate
interest in politics and government in the United States over the past several
years. Young though I might have been, I
was inspired by the words of Franklin D. Roosevelt when he declared war on Japan ,
reassured by the steadfast determination and uncompromising honesty of Harry S.
Truman, the inherent dignity and wisdom of Dwight D. Eisenhower and the sheer
inspiration engendered by John F. Kennedy.
Each had his own unique brand of greatness in my view. Real leadership seemed to have died with
those few, only to be followed by the golden age of the slick politician as
each pursued his own avaricious agenda at the expense of the common good.
Then along came Barack Obama
in whom I saw a new ray of hope for us all.
Perhaps, I thought, the flagrant wrongs of the past could be righted and
we could enter a new age of statesmanship that would appeal to the finer
aspects of our nature. I soon realized
that all we got was just another politician.
To be sure, although very charismatic and mesmerizing, in reality simply
another opportunistic patsy for the special interests that have a stranglehold
on this fragile republic aka democracy.
I have concluded there is, essentially, no difference between the two
major political parties. They just serve
the same interests in different ways.
Our vote every four years, at best, is tantamount to little more than
changing the draperies at the White House.
The life blood and decency of the American people are sapped from their
very being by Wall Street, Corporate America, special interests and a
military/industrial complex that is completely out of control.
None of them share a common
bond with those they exploit at will.
I have come to the
conclusion, because of the excesses of avarice and greed by the exploiters, compounded
by the enabling complacency and self-imposed ignorance of the exploited, there
simply is no hope. We are on a downhill
trajectory, moving at meteoric speed, towards our own demise and, indeed, that
of the world. When we have passed the
point of no return, we will predictably rise up in desperation, demanding
instant solutions to very complex problems in order to turn the ship of human
existence away from the iceberg looming on the horizon, only to realize we
procrastinated much too long. There is
no turning back. Our common date with
destiny is no longer a possibility, but a certainty. Our human proclivity to pursue pleasure and “things”
has finally caught up with us. We slept
while Rome
burned and greed played the fiddle. No
one paid any attention to the alarm bells that have been sounding for decades.
Given that rather ominous and
bleak outlook for the future, I reflect on my own life and often ask, “What are
my biggest regrets?” That is a fitting
question for a man in the twilight years of his life, but not one that is easy
to answer.
I regret the crippling
effects of an ingrained fear of being poor again. It caused me to constantly doubt my abilities
and myself. It led me to compromise my
principles for the sake of survival. It
caused me to be overly cautious about human relationships, holding back trust
and rarely, if ever, revealing the person I really am. I lost a lot of life because of the
stranglehold of fear that gripped my every waking moment. The price that I exacted from myself and
imposed on others is incalculable; a treasure, the value of which I realized
much too late in life. It caused me to
be overly concerned about safety and certainty when risk would have yielded
ever so much more of real value.
I regret that I was too rigid
during the early years of my adult life, which cost me dearly in terms of
friendships offered and never accepted, in kindness and understanding that were
never seized upon. I consigned myself to
being a loner when that was, in reality, the last thing in the world I really
wanted.
I regret that my own
imperfections caused me to insist on standards of perfection from others that
were out of reach from our common human nature.
I hurt people who only asked to be respected and trusted. That is a terribly egregious thing to have
done to any human being. Sadly, the key players in this tragedy are
now gone from this world. When I am
alone I often wish I could have one more brief bit of time with each of
them. I would tell them how sorry I am
for what I did, how much I lost because I never had the courage to be open,
vulnerable and authentic, and how I robbed us both by not telling each one how
much they had enriched my life.
Two of the greatest regrets
of my life are not pursuing a career because of its compatibility with my
natural talents, interests and ability, as opposed to gaining success as
quickly as possible for the sake of staving off another epoch of poverty in
life. In the end, all I really
accomplished was squandering the few valuable human attributes that might have
brought me years of pleasure, satisfaction and, probably, the security that
comes from pursuing that which is a burning passion of the heart and an
ambition in the belly. The greatest cost
of all was my early transformation into a consummate professional huckster who
was oh so willing to sell what I had to offer to the highest bidder. In virtually all of those instances, I set
myself up for failure, but it can be said that is the one thing I seem to have
done rather well.
There are a whole host of
other regrets, minor and major, that are too numerous to belabor here. However, each of them robbed me of so much of
the finer side of whom
and what I am and never
was. In the end, they add up to quite a
chunk of life wasted that mattered little.
Why does so much of the world
revere characteristics of the human condition that only detract from the finer
facets of our human nature? What does
competitive obsession do for the world?
Why do we manifest disdain for the more noble attributes of our human
nature? What is wrong with being gentle,
kind, caring and generous with our fellow human beings? Would we not be infinitely better off if we
didn’t have to win every contest and just naturally accepted defeat as, at
times, the best outcome with the most valuable lesson? After all, more often than not, it isn’t the
contest that really matters but, rather, as Vince Lombardi of the Green Bay
Packers so poignantly said, “It isn’t whether you win or lose, it is how you
play the game.“
I think fathers should seize
every opportunity to hug their sons and really let them know how much they are
loved and cherished. Shaking hands may
be the “manly” thing to do, but it sure is a poor substitute for the warmth and
reassurance that only comes with the real deal.
Personally, I believe men are the more fragile and lonely because of
that mistaken notion of what it stereotypically means to be a real man. A goodly number carry the emptiness and pain
of a lost relationship with their Dads that so many secretly yearned for but
never had. Not every boy is destined to
be a football player so his Father can vicariously re-live the days of his
youth and glory at the expense of what might have been a rare and gifted talent
that the world may never know. That may
well be one of the root causes of the aggression and competitiveness manifest
in the masculine mystique as one reaches and lives out maturity. When the head and hormones overrule the
heart, I think we need to pause and ask ourselves if we are giving enough time
to the finer aspects of our human nature.
When I was just a boy, I
vividly recall my Dad saying to me, “Never forget what I am about to say. The saddest thing any man can ever say is, “If
I only had it to do over again.”
How true.
Looking back over more years
than I care to acknowledge, there are four aspects of our nature that, I believe, should be manifest in
our person and remain inviolate pillars of our character throughout our lives;
(1) unconditional acceptance, (2) unconditional love, (3) unconditional
understanding, and (4) the most important of all, unconditional
forgiveness. With those as the
cornerstones of our earthly journey, I just don’t see how we could possibly go wrong.
In the final analysis, the
most sobering realization is, when a person reaches that later stage of life,
the reality sets in that you can never really go home again. What is done is done, and we can only hope
there really is yet one more phase in the life process, and it is there that
redemption awaits us for every regret we ever carried in our hearts.
Have a good year.
Cowboy Bob
January 16, 2010