A Life in the Day of an Armchair

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

Regular readers will know that I am not well these days, although a positive thinking mind-body-spirit prevails.  When we are young, we think we are invincible, but life invariably proves us no less vulnerable to its eternal ups and downs than anyone else. I guess, the secret of any upbeat heart is to keep focusing the inner eye on the ups and let the downs go into free fall. Easier said than done, of course, as a feisty youth passes into an uncertain middle age, yet one we can continue take no small pleasure in rising above if not outmanoeuvring more ups and downs. Then, one day we wake up and realise we not only growing old, but all the more vulnerable for that.

We all have to find our own way through life, and old age is no exception to that golden rule; whether we are fortunate enough to have loved ones with whom to share it or not. Some people look back with anger, others with an increasing bitterness for feeling that their future offers so much less. Neither attitude helps anyone, least of all ourselves. Oh, there will be moments, yes, and plenty of them, when we find the winter of our years darker, for whatever reason, than we anticipated; we may even feel cheated, deserving better. Whatever, there is much to be said for the old adage - 'There’s no point in crying over spilt milk.' What’s done is done, what’s past is past, and it is down to us to make the best of the Here-and-Now, rather than dwell on the worst. Never easy, especially if you’re lonely, poor, unwell, hospitalised or homeless…but there is another old adage that has served me well since my recovery from a mental breakdown many years ago – 'Where there’s life, there’s hope.'

Lose hope, and that may well be the beginning of our end, yet I say to you from personal experience that human nature is full of surprises, and can help us turn our lives around as and when push comes to shove... if we let it; not perhaps immediately, but that’s not only life for you, that’s time, too, its partner in crime.

Now and then readers and other associates ask me if I regret being gay. I ask them, in turn, how does anyone reconcile themselves to living a life that does not draw upon who we are rather than whom anyone else would have us be, no matter how well-meaning? The bottom line is that we are responsible for ourselves as well as looking out for others; at the very least, honesty demands we accept that responsibility, sooner or later...does it not?  Certain judgemental societies and individuals worldwide would do well to keep that in mind.

A LIFE IN THE DAY OF AN ARMCHAIR

The world, it’s passing me by;

though time slow enough for me to ask questions

about the whys and wherefores

of life, it only answers me with more questions,

demanding I look closer to home,
ask of mind-body-spirit how and why
it has brought me to this
dismal failure of expectation and imagination
if ever there was one

So, what is ‘this’ that I find harder

to bear as memories assail me (good, bad and ugly),

now offering comfort enough

to bring a smile to my face, now torturing me

with errors that, unmade,
may well have seen latter days kinder
than a tearful armchair
failing to empathise with a mind-body-spirit
finding itself wanting

My window on life misting over;

a splatter of raindrops reciting poems, calling to mind

faces, voices, seeing me through

all my whys and wherefores, their being on hand,
answers in themselves
to any questions I may well have asked
of mind-bod-spirit
had I envisaged then any such Here-and-Now
as, this, even as I speak

Ah, but where inclined to look back on this life in tears,
find the sum of its joys come to rise above its fears

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2019

[Note: This poem also appears on my gay-interest blog as not all readers dip into both. We are, after all, a common humanity in so far as  each and every one of us needs must ask much the same questions of it (and ourselves) as time passes.]