http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Sometimes we despair of any beauty
in the world for being reminded day after day by the media of its ugliness.
Fair enough, since we should not turn a blind eye or we risk becoming
complacent within the confines of our own personal space; the world is bigger
than that. Oh, but then we have only to look out of a window after a storm to witness
all the splendour of nature reasserting itself; a kaleidoscope of colour that
reminds us it’s wonderful to be alive
even though life may sometimes assume the aspect of a bad dream.
Similarly, just as we start to
despair of this sorry world, an act of kindness invariably restores our
flagging faith in human nature.
Many people, like me, suffer
regular bouts depression; mine have struck at random since early childhood although
childhood depression wasn’t recognised in those days. (I am 66 now.) For me, it
is always the same sensation. I am being relentlessly, mercilessly sucked into
murky depths we invariably refuse to acknowledge as denial or some other form
of negativity. Yet, even as a child, a passer-by has always come across me just
as I am about to drown, and thrown me a lifeline. By the time I’ve been hauled
to safety (and it can be a long haul)
I’ve arrived at a whole new, positive perspective on life and self...until the
next time.
My rescuer is always there for us
all, and is called Hope. At the same time, I, am a pragmatist; it is
quality of life that counts and
that will be different for everyone if only because everyone's
endurance threshold is different. If I were to be diagnosed with a degenerative illness, for example, I would visit Dignitas in Switzerland all the while assisted suicide remains a criminal offence here in the UK. Others may well be stronger than me or hold religious beliefs that say suicide a sin, but I know my limitations.
Even if the worst were to come to the worst, though, I would never abandon hope. As regular readers will know, I find and take a strong sense of spirituality from nature, and...spring always follows winter. While I cannot accept there is life (as we know it) after death, neither do I believe the human spirit is so easily defeated; something of ours will live on in the hearts and memories of those closest to us, influencing - if indirectly, even unknowingly - their lives. They, in turn, will pass on something of themselves - of which
we are a part - to others; thereby, a sense of immortality.
I decided years ago that if I am ever diagnosed with an illness likely to gorge not only on my body but on my sense of who I am, I will take a one-way trip to Switzerland; rather
that than let pro-life campaigners subject me to a living hell, take a chance on a some unworldly darkness pushing this mind-body-spirit beyond its powers of endurance into a quality of light worthy of a poem.
'The lotus flower blooms most beautifully from the deepest
and thickest mud.' - Buddhist proverb
AFTER DARK
Treading lightly among lotus
flowers
risen from mud to show this world
of ours
there is beauty to be had, even
where
it may seem lies precious little
more than
the stuff of a slum child’s dream
Opening my heart to those who dare
allow the same, so they may yet
discover
there is treasure to be had, even
where
it may seem, at first sight,
there’s nothing
to inspire even a poor poet
Offering sustenance to those who
seek
to strengthen a mind and body grown
weak
from treading heavily among weeds
where nature meant to tell a
different tale
were nurture called to account
Bringing vision to those who would
see
into the murky waters of pain and
misery
where the dark is rising, Earth
Mother
but waiting (like us) to flower and
produce
fruit that is a poem called Lotus
Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2018
[Note: I agonised for a long time over the title of this poem, first published as 'Where There's Life' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]
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