Not One Man Aboard To Mend Another
Last week I was inspired to reread Treasure Island, having seen a reference to it in an article. I’ve been through it many times as an adult, always mindful of C.S. Lewis’s notion that a children’s book only enjoyable by children is probably not a good story. And a great story this is, never growing old with repetition, made richer with the evocative illustrations by N.C. Wyeth.
Upon first seeing the island and after a hard morning’s work out in smaller boats pulling the Hispaniola to anchor in a safe haven on the other side, young Jim Hawkins observes “If the conduct of the men had been alarming in the boat, it became truly threatening when they had come aboard. They lay about the deck growling together in talk. The slightest order was received with a black look, and grudgingly and carelessly obeyed. Even the honest hands must have caught the infection, for there was not one man aboard to mend another. Mutiny, it was plain, hung over us like a thunder-cloud.”
Sound familiar? Mutiny in the air, growling, grumbling, not one man available to mend another and the cavalry is not coming. That’s just the way I felt going to work on Saturday. Just lost and unsure what to do next and unclear whether I had the tools or the chops to get myself out of this funk and fog all around us. Then, like a grace, came the challenge from Rumi, rising up from some deep place. “Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place.” He said it to all of us, not just to me.
Like a chant, like a litany, like a whisper I began to hear “Even though I am a pint down, my glasses are fogging up from this mask and I don’t want to be here, I am the soul of this place.
Even though I’m worried about this country and how it feels like a tinderbox, like the sixties, I am the soul of this place.
Even though I don’t feel grateful and my nose is running inside this mask, I am the soul of this place.
Even though two over sixty male customers are standing outside in line right next to each other not wearing masks and it reminds me of this divisive issue, I am the soul of this place.
Even though I don’t know whether the October marathon for which I registered will even happen or if I’d dare to run even if it isn’t, I am the soul of this place.
Even though we have to clean between every customer and I will have some stress because of my hearing disability, exacerbated by masks and the plexiglass between us, I am the soul of this place.
Even though I won’t be able to see my grandchildren in Sweden for quite a while and I’m losing hazard pay starting in June and there’s no end in sight to this and it could drag on for two years and even though it seems like there’s not one man aboard to mend another, I AM STILL THE SOUL OF THIS PLACE.”
I kept chanting and, like yeast working on bread, it started to help my spirits rise.
That’s the format of the game, that’s the challenge, that’s the gift.
Your move.
How are you the soul of your place today, even though…?
