Recently I started reading a book titled EMBRACING OBSCURITY. The author, Anonymous, writes about how, in today's society, we're apt to feel we must be a SOMEBODY if we want to count at all. I haven't read far, but I gather he's saying we need to abandon dreams of being Big Names and settle for being ordinary people. As Edgar Guest aspires to in this verse...
The Ragtag Daily Prompt word this morning is ENVY. American poet Edgar Guest had some wise thoughts on this subject and many of his verses speak of being content, so I’m going to post a couple today. Here’s the first…
THE OTHER FELLOW
Whose luck is better far than ours? The other fellow’s. Whose road seems always lined with flowers? The other fellow’s. Who is the man who seems to get Most joy in life, with least regret, Who always seems to win his bet? The other fellow.
Who fills the place we think we’d like? The other fellow. Whom does good fortune always strike? The other fellow. Whom do we envy, day by day? Who has more time than we to play? Who is it, when we mourn, seems gay? The other fellow.
Who seems to miss the thorns we find? Th other fellow. Who seems to leave us all behind? The other fellow. Who never seems to feel the woe, The anguish and the pain we know? Who gets the best seats at the show? The other fellow.
And yet, my friend, who envies you? The other fellow. Who thinks he gathers only rue? The other fellow. Who sighs because he thinks that he Would infinitely happier be, If he could be like you or me? The other fellow.
From his book JUST FOLKS copyright 1917 by The Reilly & Britton Co.
Here’s my response, a tale of opposite reactions to current events:
Worry Won’t Fix it
“If you’d quit being a turtle and stick your neck out of the shell you’ve escaped into, you’d realize just how flash-point things have become. We can’t stay hidden away when the world explodes! But no. You want to play ostrich, bury your head in the sand and not see it coming,” Marc grumbled as he paced back and forth, stopping now and then to fiddle with the news magazines spread across the table.
“Listen, brother. I’ve got ten years on you and I’ve learned to ignore the drama drummers and all the panic rhetoric,” his brother Colton replied. “Noise-makers may spin their claims that we’re on the threshold of global disaster, but the world has been going to wrack and to ruin ever since Adam and Eve were evicted from the Garden of Eden. This old world has seen droughts, floods, volcanoes, economic crashes and countless wars, but we’re still here.”
Colton took another sip of his iced tea. “But our worrying won’t fix it. All you’re doing is wearing a hole in our carpet. Why don’t you just take a deep breath, relax, and get on with the general design of life – before your blood pressure takes you out.”
One day the Daily Prompt asked what tricks someone could play on me that would truly scare me. It shouldn’t be hard, as I’m a timid sort and easily frightened. (My reason for avoiding heart-stopping suspense and horror stories.) But what pleasure would it give someone to know they’d terrified me? Is that not cruelty?
My mind goes back to something my husband’s distant cousin, another Bob, told his teenage son one day. “If you’re going to pull a prank, use your brain. Don’t do something stupid that you’re going to be embarrassed about later. Do something you’ll be proud of. Something unique or spectacular.”
He explained that when he was in his teens a group of guys had gotten together one night and dismantled some piece of equipment — or an old car? — and carried it piece by piece up to the top of a prominent building. There they’d reassembled it so that in the morning everyone passing by could see this bizarre object sitting on the roof. Now that was a novelty people chuckled over for a good while after.
My husband remembers that when he was a boy an old wagon appeared, through similar circumstances, on top to the town hall in Craik, SK one Nov 1st. Seeing it there gave local folks a chuckle, but no one was terrified or injured.
Though I’m not a fan of tricks, I believe Cousin Bob had a point. Some young folks think it’s fun to destroy things. Why? Does some anger in their own heart seek an outlet in being nasty to others? Often they choose the most helpless as their victims, someone who can’t retaliate. They don’t want to risk someone bigger and stronger catching up with them and punishing them for their misdeeds.
One young man talked of how his uncle would tickle him and his brothers when they were boys — and keep on until they were in tears and screaming. Uncle called it fun; his nephews called it a kind of torture and avoided him whenever they could. “Funny” that humiliates or hurts someone or some creature is a very perverted humor.
Bushboy seems to be in cahoots with FlyLady this morning. the Ragtag Daily prompt for today is DOWNSIZE and FlyLady’s Morning Musing is a list of things that will finally prompt us to deal with our clutter.
“What are you waiting for?” Stuff to just evaporate? Little elves to do it for you? A fire or flood? Next spring’s garage sale? Her theme song is: “Fifteen minutes a day will make an impact.” Or, as some other sage has worded it: “LITTLE AND OFTEN MAKE A HEAP IN TIME.”
LETHARGY: The Enemy Within
I came through my minor surgery on Tuesday quite well, opting for a spinal anesthetic instead of a general one. Spent Tues night in the hospital and no complications appeared, so I was released. Since then I’ve been taking life fairly easy. No loafing in bed, mind you; I can be up and around and doing the basics with no problem. In fact I was told this is the best plan for avoiding trouble after surgery. Yesterday we went to a local greenhouse and I bought bedding plants to set out in my flowerpots. Will continue with that today, leaving the heavy lifting & shuffling of pots to my husband.
Last night I thought I should get back to painting something, but was feeling so lethargic. Why bother? I’ll just read. (I.e., procrastinate.) Then I decided to apply the above: just get started; do a little bit. Five minutes, even. Paint the undercoat for the rocks and pathway in the courtyard scene. Which I did.
The French have a saying, “L’appetit vient en mangent.”Appetite comes in eating. Doing that bit of brush work got me started again and the desire to paint returned. Temperamental thing that I am, “I don’t feel like it right now” procrastination clogs me, too, so ridding my mind of that initial lethargy is just as needful as clearing out clogged closets. This morning I’m inspired to carry on with that “little and often” thought and spend a few minutes responding to the prompt of the day. Funny how doing a little bit, rather than draining you, gives you courage to do a little bit more. 🙂
For some reason the RDP prompt made me think of an abandoned shell. Has its owner moved to a roomier home…or downsized? With the help of Pixabay, I’ve come up with a couple of cute illustrations. The first was taken by Nowaja; the second by Claudia Wollesen