It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.
- Oscar Wilde -
I've done many bad things in my life although the reality isn't quite as black and white as the statement. Maybe, I've done many things some people may perceive as bad things in my life, that others would see as something other, is more appropriate.
I've done some good things also, or so I believe. I guess you'd have to ask the recipients of those good things to find the truth of it however I feel I have done some good in my life nevertheless and that's what really matters, my actual character, not other people's perception of it.
It's somewhat of a balance I suppose, the relationship between good and bad, and generally perspective and objectivity need to come into play when determining what exactly makes up good or bad. At best, all we can do is our personal best whilst striving to improve; no one can ask more of themselves.
I'd like to divulge a true story in which I was not exactly the best version of myself and whilst it could be said I was bad let's defer to Oscar Wilde's reassignment of the words good and bad and say, I wasn't bad, just tedious. It's a fine line, I know.
Growing up in a very small town was an amazing experience; I had room to move, to explore my surroundings and myself as an individual. At the time I probably didn't realise how fortunate I was however looking back I see it now and yearn for the simplicity that was my youth.
I'd jump on my bike on Saturday mornings, or any day of the week during school holidays, and disappear; I'd be alone, with my eldest brother or other kids from around the place depending on circumstances. I'd ride around, skip rocks at the creek, swing off the rope into the water, make jumps and crash my bike over them, have races, ride over to the train yards and see what was around the place and just about anything one could imagine. There were few constraints.
Naturally, all that stuff would bring on an appetite which would generally be sated at someone's house. We'd ride in like an outlaw bike gang, descend upon the kitchen and get fed. But sometimes I'd ride alone which meant a long ride home for lunch or sourcing my food elsewhere. It's the latter option I chose many times and which earned me the self-proclaimed label bad tedious.
I'd head over to the fruit and vegetable store in the town's main street and harvest some lunch from the small shop. Unfortunately I rarely had any money; I was around eight or nine and pocket money wasn't a thing in my household so...I was forced to overcome, adapt and get creative.
Basically what I mean there, is that I stole fruit from the store. But never fear, I didn't just steal the fruit; I'd never resort to such base actions...I stole it with great cunning, flair and ingenuity.
The greengrocer never knew what hit him. One moment he had a bunch of grapes and the next...no bunch of grapes. There was a pile of bananas and then...there were two missing. What a great pile of apples and then, minus two or three. It was sheer brilliance on my part and week after week I'd get away with it; the greengrocer was none the wiser. I'd trundle off on my bike and enjoy a healthy lunch of whatever that ~dumbass greengrocer was stupid enough to put on the benches in front of his store.
I'm not sure how many times I conducted fruit-heist-operations so I'm going to go with a lot. Like, more than ten times but less than a million. Let's put it this way, I never went hungry on those bike rides.
I never revelled in my thieving mastery, I just accepted that I had a brilliant criminal mind, my thieving-excellence was unparalleled and I was a much vaunted personality within the seedy underworld of organised fruit crime.
OK, none of that at all...I knew what I was doing was wrong, my wholesome upbringing told me so but, to my great criminal minded credit great shame I did it anyway. I guess I figured I'd gotten away with it once, the second time, and so...you know, I kept doing it.
But here's the thing...That stupid wily greengrocer knew what I was doing the entire time. He knew I was stealing his fruit and never once said a word, hit me with the broom, kicked me in the behind [like I deserved] or called the police. He let me take the fruit.
I didn't know this until I was in my late teens; until then my criminal mastermind thought I was simply the worlds best fruit thief. Oh how the mighty fall.
As it turned out, my mum was paying for the fruit I stole every time she went there to buy the week's fruit and vegetables. We had our own things growing, a pretty extensive vegetable garden and fruit tree orchard, but she supplemented what we didn't have at the greengrocer's store...and paid for the grapes, bananas, pears or whatever I'd stolen as well. I actually can't recall if I was more embarrassed at having been caught out or that my superb criminal mind had, indeed, let me down.
I'll be honest and say I regret not apologising to that greengrocer who would be long dead by now, but also that I sort of love this little story.
I guess it takes me back to a really nice time in my life when I had few cares and the whole world seemed open to me...or at least the small town in which I lived and the places I could reach on my bike. This, and other childhood memories, are very fondly remembered now and this one in particular as I recall having a really nice laugh with my mum about it many years later.
My mother lay on her deathbed, [cancer you see], and was unable to talk but the family was around chatting and retelling some of the funnier stories of our lives; she listened and, I like to think found some comfort. This story came up and she managed a smile, feebly reached over to my hand and placed hers over it briefly. I'll not say more, but it was...nice. She was gone the following morning.
I'm not sure if I'm good or bad, charming or tedious...I'm just me.
I have faults, so many faults, and have done so many things I could be judged poorly and ridiculed for; the opposite as well, those good things I mentioned earlier. I can only ever be me though and it's times like I describe in this post that make me that, the moments of me I guess.
It's those individual pieces that combine to make up the jigsaw puzzle of my life and my personal self and other people's pieces could never fall into place, only my own.
I'll end with a quote a superior gave me years ago in a time of crisis. He was a wise man and always had an appropriate quote...it seemed he had a million of them tucked away in his brain just waiting for the right moment. This is what he said:
The best and safest thing is to keep a balance in your life, acknowledge the great powers around us and in us. If you can do that, and live that way, you are really a wise man.
- Euripides -
It is a quote I never forgot; more importantly, the meaning and impact he intended it to have upon me enfolded me then [once it sank in], made a difference to my emotional self, and still does.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post.
Don't forget to head over to the #weekend-engagement topics post [WE95] here to check out the topics and join in if you're keen. There's some prizes on offer and the chance to get engaged in a meaningful way with the community.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - Tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind
The image is mine.
