At Least

I was thinking the other day about the turmoil in the world at the moment. I guess, Dear Friends, you really do not need me to list the bad stuff but I am going to touch on a couple of things purely to illustrate my point further. Being a girl in Afghanistan or a citizen in the Ukraine is pretty awful at the moment.  

 So, I am sitting here and reaching for my rose coloured spectacles and finding the world to be still here. The sun is shining. It will become too hot for me today so I will seek out the sea and have a 30 minute swim to cool down. On the beach will be families playing in the sand, having a picnic, laughing and joking. In the water there will be a few swimmers, more people on sailing or paddle boards. If I time it right, a cruise ship will emerge from under the Lions Gate Bridge. So not all is right with the world, I know, and some people around the world are in for a very hard winter, but I must share with you, Dear Reader, that I am going through a W.B. Yeats spell at the moment.  This iconic Irish poet whose life spanned the years 1865-1939 wrote “The Second Coming”, a poem often quoted:-

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre,

The falcon cannot hear the falconer.

Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned.

The best lack all conviction while the worst

 are full of passionate intensity.”

He wrote this in 1919 in the aftermath of the First World War and at the beginning of the Irish War of Independence.  Significantly for us, perhaps, the flu pandemic was raging around the world. His pregnant wife caught the flu. 70% of pregnant women succumbed to the disease. She survived. He wrote this poem while she was convalescing.

 One can see many parallels to the world’s current situation. I find these first few lines to be absolutely brilliant, the second part, not included here, to be less so. It must have seemed then that the world was falling  apart . There must have been so much despair as Yeats poem suggests. I guess, Dear Reader, that this pessimism of a century ago should give us food for thought now. Perversely that crisis a century ago leaves me feeling optimistic.  I shall tell you why. There are so many ‘at least’ good things out there in the world; so many things that are still possible for us on this beautiful planet. We in BC are, at the moment, cocooned from so much that is turbulent in the world. And, Dear Friends, the sun came up this morning; the dogs and their owners greeted me as I walked to coffee; the street beside the “Bean Around the World” coffee shop was busy with people noisily going to work. I am in charge of a cat and a dog while our son is at work and Irene is visiting a friend on beautiful Gabriola Island. And, a subject close to my heart, at least the children will be joyfully and productively back in school next week and so many will be starting new adventures after their school careers are over. Sure and all, all could come adrift very quickly and we could float anchorless into the abyss, it was always thus, but, at least, for now there is much that is good.

William Butler Yeats was writing 100 years ago, at least, a century later, the planet is still here, at least innovators are seeking solutions to problems and, at least, we can put a smile on our faces, get out there and try to make a difference. At least I can turn on the tap and drink a glass of water and not have to indulge in the scurrilous, unethical purchase of water in plastic; at least I can find shade when I need it; at least I have a good book to read; sport to watch; music to listen to; friends to banter and walk with. So a century ago when the world seemed to be falling apart for WB Yeats, it didn’t. We are still here.  One can just about hear the falconer. At least.

Yet, Dear Reader, I realise that there is something egocentric and selfish about my ‘at leasts’. I could be more altruistic and up and doing and walking the walk instead of settling back in my recliner and finding the positives for me. What is happening to they when me is getting his ship into calmer waters with a plethora of platitudes?? My hope is that they will have some ‘at leasts’; some straws at which to grasp. After all, hope was left in Pandora’s box for us all and while there is life, as we all know, there is hope.

At least.