People [2]: TF Powys

 

 

[Google Images--TF Powys]

"...lie thee down, somebody..."*

   Progressively, it's getting harder and harder to become a nobody.
No matter how hard I/you/he/she/it/we/you/they 'work' on  losing your self, carefully and methodically applying the RS Peters principle of setting yourself free from your ignorance, prejudice and preconceived ideas, some version of your somebody-ness is always lurking in the background of your paltry little life, always ready to raise its ugly head. And, while the struggle is constant, it is all part of the dance [as foretold by Lord Krishna, lo these many kalpas ago].

  Take the other day for example.
I had just finished talking with a freshman philosophy class about the dangers inherent in a cult of personality, when, during the break, one of the students sidled up to me and said: "Professor Kinch..I just want you to know how much I enjoy your class. I really look forward to it..." Instead of channelling the Suzuki principle [a good teacher knocks down the idol his students would make of him] I allowed myself to bask in the glow of this fleeting  [and empty] praise. Ephemerally earned praise left a bad taste in my mouth.
Lie thee down, somebody...

 Then just the other day I was  visiting a Professor of Eastern Studies, Dr. SeeMore Godbole, and he offered me some tea. I was talking about this and that, and some more about this and  that, so he just kept pouring the tea, slowly. Unable to restrain myself, I finally uttered: 'Professor Godbole, no more tea will go in the cup...it is beginning to overflow..."
He stopped pouring and smiled. 'I was hoping for a conversation but your monolog just made me pour and pour...and pour...'
We both laughed. And then we had a real conversation.
Lie thee down, somebody...

  Much earlier this month, I was volunteering at my local Foodbank, when an elderly woman [who was recovering from a recent surgery] required a bit of help carrying her government supplies--meat, cheese, eggs, and butter--to her old, beat-up car. And since I was between tasks [and follow directions well], I was given the job.

  Initial small talk soon gave way to more serious subjects, and an exchange about generational versus situational poverty. In my rush to empathize, I told her that I had [at least in my mind] flirted with being on the poverty line several times whilst attending the Uni. She listened impatiently to my tale, shot me a seriously look, then said: 'That was misfortune that visited you, once or twice...' and, straightening herself, added:
'Did you ever wonder where your next meal was coming from?
Did you ever freeze on a cold winter night because they had cut off your electricity and the little money you had was spent on food, rather than paraffin?
Did you ever consider putting an end to it all? No one or nothing left to live for?'

  She stopped, waiting for my response.
There was no response other than my face turning various shades of red, and imperfectly forming an I am well rebuked expression.
Lie thee down, somebody...
Lie thee down..
Lie the..
Lie..


*borrowed from a short story by TF Powys