Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Memories or dreams?

It is very strange how memory works. I might be going about my daily chores when a scent, a sound, a picture or something I might read, will suddenly recall an event or something about our lives together. Me with Magucha. I know that it is getting on for three years since she died (I just can’t use the euphemism “passed away”. It seems like an avoidance – to hide something). Sometimes she seems closer than at other times – like a dream – drifting in and out. 

All this reminds me of the reasons why I like poetry and why it has been used by troubadours and wandering minstrels down the centuries is that the cadence, the rhythm, matches that of music and the beat of the human heart – about sixty beats a minute. Before written language was invented, Hindus used the rhythm to help them remember verses of the Bhagavad Gita and other epic tales. Similarly the Greeks had wandering minstrels who would entertain people with tales of Olympus and the Gods who lived there. These stories were later collated by Homer and many other writers. 

This poem – and I know it may pull at the heart-strings – but I don’t care, it resonates for me - only because I grieve. This reminds me of Magucha and the love we shared.  It is all about memories. 

When tomorrow starts without me.

When tomorrow starts without me, I will not be here to see,
That the sun will rise and find your eyes; filled with tears for me,
But please know you're always in my heart, and I will forever love you,
And know, each time you think of me, I will be missing you too.

When tomorrow starts without me, I need you to understand,
That an angel came, he called my name and took me by the hand.
He told me it was time to go up to heaven far above,
And that I have to leave behind all those I dearly love.

When tomorrow starts without me, I know that you will cry,
For all my life I’d always thought that I would never die.
I had so much life ahead of me; I had so much to do,
It seems almost impossible that I was leaving you.

When tomorrow starts without me, I think of the good days, and the bad,
I thought of all our fights, next to all the fun we had.
If I could have stayed, just for a little while,
I would say I'd always be here, and then I'd make you smile.

When tomorrow starts without me, I'll realise that this could never be,
As all that would be left of me, is frozen in memories.
Then I thought of all the beautiful things that I would miss tomorrow,
I thought of you and when I did my heart was filled with sorrow.

When tomorrow starts without me I will walk through heaven’s gate,
I will feel at home even without my soul mate.
I know this is what I wanted, deep down within my bones,

And God looked down and smiled at me from his great golden throne.

When tomorrow starts without me I see everything He promised me,
“Today your life on earth is past, and now you can be free.”
“I promise no tomorrow as today will always last,
And since it's all the same you will not be longing for the past.”

So when tomorrow starts without me don’t think we’re far apart,
For every time you think of me I’m right here in your heart.

Attributed to David Romano. 

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Without all this ado!

It can be fun reading books – to me anyway! One never knows what really astute, amusing, sad or genuinely interesting gems one will find.

Here is one that caught my attention. Written by Thomas Traherne (1632? – 1674) and recorded in his “Centuries of Meditations.”

"It is storied of that prince (Pyrrhus, King of Epirus), that having conceived a purpose to invade Italy, he sent for Cineas, a philosopher and the King’s friend: to whom he communicated his design, and desired his counsel. Cineas asked him to what purpose he invaded Italy? He said, to conquer it. And what will you do when you have conquered it? Go into France, said the King, and conquer that. And what will you do when you have conquered France? Conquer Germany. And what then? said the philosopher. Conquer Spain. I perceive, said Cinceas, you mean to conquer all the World. What will you do when you have conquered all? Why then, said the King, we will return, and enjoy ourselves at quiet in our own land. So you may now, said the philosopher, without all this ado."

So true! And applies to not only ambitious Kings and leaders of countries, but, I think, to all leaders of businesses as well.


Friday, October 12, 2018

Gyges

Somehow I keep returning to a topic that has interested me for many years. That of the “link” between cause and effect; or, you reap what you sow; or, more colloquially, what goes around comes around.

This is more accurately stated in what is, I believe, a Spanish proverb, “Take what you want from life,” says God. “Take it, and pay.”

It is a common human failing for people, particularly those in high office, to assume that they can control events. But then we all like to imagine that we can, and have, control over our lives. This hubris is always, always, fraught and always, always, results in unforeseen consequences, good, bad or indifferent.

Because the “effects” are not always immediately apparent, this is something we tend to ignore, forget or consider of little importance.

What follows is an old tale, from ancient Greece, that is I think as relevant today as it ever was. 

In ancient Lydia (now part of Western Turkey facing the Aegean Sea across from Greece) about 3 000 years ago there was a king called Candaules. This king was greatly in love with his wife. In fact obsessively so – he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Now Candaules had had a favourite bodyguard called Gyges with whom Candaules was in the habit of sharing is inner-most thoughts. Candaules suspected that Gyges, while having to agree with him, didn’t really believe what he said about his wife. So he proposed that Gyges hide himself in their bedroom so that he could see her naked and thereby affirm that the queen was, indeed, the most beautiful woman in the world. There would be moments when Gyges could slip away undetected.

Gyges was horrified at this proposal and feared for the consequences if the queen saw him. Candaules persisted with his plan and so it eventuated. The queen, however, did see Gyges as he slipped away but made no comment. She knew, immediately, that this was the work of her husband and determined to make him pay for the outrage and her humiliation of being seen naked by another man. 

The next day she called the unsuspecting Gyges and told him what she suspected and that someone had to pay for what he did. Her proposal was that either he, Gyges, would be killed there and then, or he was to kill Candaules, marry her, and so become king himself.

Dumbfounded by being found out and by the queen’s proposal Gyges decided to live and with the queen’s connivance, killed Candaules and so became king of Lydia.

The populace was stunned and outraged at such a violent change in leadership. They agreed, however to consult the Oracle of Delphi. If she agreed then Gyges would be king.

And so it was, with the warning prediction that retribution would be visited upon the fifth generation of Gyges’ descendants. Over the years this was forgotten. The prediction was however fulfilled when the fourth descendant was killed and the Lydians defeated, when they were attacked by the Persians under Cyrus the Great.

Hubris seems always to invite Nemesis, the Goddess of retribution and undeserved good fortune and who is implacable in her pursuit of tracking every wrong back to its doer. 

Whatever course of action is started must be completed, no matter how long it takes. 

“Take what you want from Life,” says God. “Take it, and pay”. 

Indeed!