Placing the I's in (Family) History

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We are all part of history, not only our own but other people's as well; one way or another, we all bring something to the behaviour and understanding of others, not just family members and friends but complete strangers we might have chatted to on a train or in a bus queue ... wherever.In much the same way ghosts, too, play their part in developing not only the national consciousness, but the human consciousness too. I often refer to a 'posthumous consciousness' in my blogs, a sense of drawing on the wisdom of those long dead to help us make a decision, just as we may well draw on someone else's bad experiences in a similar context. Nor do our ghosts need to be part of our own or family history; history itself is a living text book about successes and failures, do's and don't that school children he world ocer carry with them all their lives, whether they realise it or not.

When our circumstances take a nosedive, there are invariably many factors to take into account. Oh, but how most if not all of are quick to play the blame game!  How many of us, though, consider pointing the finger at ourselves sometimes…especially when, at heart, we know we should…?

Ah, but when those same circumstances improve, especially by leaps and bounds, who among us is not quick to take most if not all the credit…?

As I was writing this poem, I could not help but recall a severe nervous breakdown I suffered way back in the 1970’s. It was four years before I could work again. During that time, I had the support of three wonderful people – Joyce B, Dick L and Malcolm P who encouraged me to (eventually) start writing again. As creative therapy, it was a huge boost to my mental health and general well-being. I owe those three people so much, not least for helping me to help myself. (One died before I was able to find a job and start living again while I am ashamed to say I was so desperate to put those awful years behind me that I lost touch with the others after I moved away.) These people will always have a special place in my consciousness.

As for any concept of Fate or God taking a hand in things, I remain sceptical. Neither, for me at least, have a place in a positive thinking mindset; it is too simplistic to blame or credit either for whatever. Sadly, few, if any of  us can avoid playing the blame game altogether even though (as I know only too well) it can scar a person for life. We are not puppets. No one pulls our strings although certain politicians would like to think they do ...which is probably why they go into politics in the first place. Some religious leaders are no better, of course; they like to think they are servants of their God and He speaks through them, but many enjoy the power that gives them in much the same way as some politicians who can always pass the buck to whoever happens to be Prime Minister at the time.  

.My History teacher at school, back in the 1950's once told the class, "Never think of history as being dead. History, thank goodness, is alive and kicking.Most people have completely the wrong idea about history.Hopefully, by the time I've finished with you lot, you won't ..."  and I suspect most of us didn't.

You-Me-Us, we are as we are, and we are history.

“The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you are likely to see.” 
― Winston S. Churchill

PLACING THE  I's IN (FAMILY) HISTORY

I wander in the mists of time

where no one, but everyone goes,

pondering the meaning of life 

that no one but everyone knows
plays us for puppets on strings 

Alone, but never quite alone

where no one but everyone goes

giving the lie to a flawless life
that no one but everyone knows
is best left to wishful thinking

I wander in the mists of time

making beginnings of endings

and vice versa, pulling stings,
keeping faith with human beings 
as no one but everyone knows 

No sign of the mist ever lifting,

on a human spirit close to despair,

going it alone, yet never alone

for ghosts of its history throwing
negatives and positives at it

I walk among heroes, head high,

sparing tears for those missing out

on the human spirit’s capacity

to love, learn, put bigotry to rout

(no mere puppet on its strings)

I wander in the mists of time

where no one but everyone goes,

homing in on meanings of life,

lending inspiration to its sciences
and arts deserving an audience

Writing on walls wherever I go
as I pass through the seasons of life
bringing to nature and humanity
senses and sensibilities embracing
past-present-future, such as it is 

Alone, but never quite alone,

where no one but everyone goes,

giving the lie to such 'betters'
the like of whom everyone knows

play us for puppets on strings

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020