O TYM ODCINKU
To paraphrase 20th century American author and professor of literature, Joseph Campbell, “life’s greatest tragedy is not failure but climbing the ladder of success only to realize that you had leaned your ladder against the wrong wall.” Elsewhere, this quote is attributed to what mid-life is all about. One falls into a career path, works hard, burns the candle at both ends, and reaches middle age only to realize with some horror that they back the wrong pony, discerned incorrectly, made a wrong turn and just kept on going.
What a person can do in this predicament is anyone’s guess. I suppose this is the precursor to a midlife crisis. Once the supposed err is realized, an attempt to reshuffle circumstances takes place. Down comes the ladder; up it goes somewhere else. But anyone with eyes to see knows that this rarely ends well. Broken marriages, broken relationships, peculiar purchases and moves. This is the blond secretary, the red hot rod. Witnesses laugh at first then become sad because the event is sad. Time flows in only one direction after all.
Rarely is there a life without regrets. We muddle through, doing our best to make good decisions and kicking ourselves when we don’t, but when it all adds up, we simply have to live with the burden of roads not taken. We did not always heed the advice of Robert Frost. Most times, we took the predictable route.
Apart from being an astute insight on the sometimes experience of being middle age, Campbell’s thoughts on what he considers to be one of life’s greatest tragedies leaves readers wanting. A person might ingest his words and say, Well, my ladder has been leaning against the wrong wall this whole time. I am ten or fifteen years from retirement. Now what? Do I just muscle through until I can retire, buy my boat, and sail off into the distance?
Perhaps little Emma Knight, a grade school student, has the best advice for those mulling over the efforts of their lives and the next steps after middle age. She writes, “When I turn 100 years old I will be tired of everything and everyone, so I will tell everyone that I am going to Canada but actually go to the Bahamas. I’ll live in a tiny hut with my tiny dog. I will order fish tacos when I’m hungry and live my best life with no crap.”
The point, dear listeners? Living involves great effort, and not all decisions will be sound. At some point, we will all get tired and begin to take careful stock of our circumstances. If we are fortunate, the wall our ladders have been leaning against has been the correct one or, at least, something close to it. Our internal compass had been right. We had listened to the correct voice. If the wall had been the wrong one all along then we might reframe our lives to look at the intent and not the gains. We meant well. We really did. Perhaps there is time enough for grace and a redirection – another wall to receive our ladder. The very lucky are granted this wish.
At fifty-one, I am examining my own wall. Perhaps this is the real takeaway from Campbell. His thoughts are less an indictment of making the wrong decision and more a call to study where one happens to be: how they got there, was it worth it. I, for one, am doing my best to understand the initiatives I have taken and those I chose to dismiss. My question, really, is in a poem I wrote. I hope it lands well.
A Cucumber at Fifty-One
Optimistically, I bought many
packets – cucumber seeds –
and prepared a nice bed.
They sprouted after a time
and grew, tendrils reaching upward,
climbing the wire lattice.
And when the yellow flowers began to
burst, I thought of the cucumbers
gramma would sprinkle with salt,
but as the days grew hot and
the insects droned, the flowers
simply wilted, refused to
transform: a great tangle of
cucumber vines – so much potential
unrealized. It yielded just one.
The present sum of my endeavors, I thought.
