On My Mind – Principiis – If – 7/28/2018

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;

If  you can think – and not make thoughts your aim,

if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you,

Except the Will which says to them:  “Hold On!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!

This is the first of the six that came to me – back when I was around 12 years old – passed down to me by my Grandpop.  He wasn’t a tall man – I remember him being around 5’8″ but he was a solid, thick, boulder of a man – strong hands that were capable of delivering a punishing handshake – and a powerful upper body.  He was Southern to the bone – old Mississippi family – began his college education at VMI – finished it at Ole Miss.  He served in the Pacific during WWII as an officer in the U.S. Navy and went to work for Mississippi’s version of the IRS after the war – he was running that organization by the time he retired.  He loved to laugh and he had a way of making himself the center of attention – always able to fill up a room – no matter the size of the room.

When he retired, he and Grandmomma bought a lot on the Alabama Gulf Coast – sitting on a bayou that emptied out onto the Gulf of Mexico – well before all the development you see today.  I used to go down there every summer and spend several weeks with the two of them – mostly great days and great memories.  We had a predictable routine – up early every weekday – Grandpop always cooked a huge breakfast – then we spent the entire morning on the boat – out in the Gulf fishing.  We’d get back around noon – clean and secure the boat – then clean whatever we caught – usually for dinner that night.  Grandmomma would make us another huge midday meal – she was an incredible cook who used to write cooking columns for Southern Living.  After that, Grandmomma and Grandpop would retire for a nap and I’d settle in to read.  We’d finish the afternoon with chores, usually followed by an hour of double solitaire with Grandmomma – I don’t know that I ever beat her in all those years – and one of her chocolate malts.

Around 5:00, Grandpop would resume control of the day and declare that it was about time for “a toot”.  He would mix a drink for the two of them and Grandmomma would head to the kitchen where she’d work her magic one more time – fixing up the fish we’d caught that morning – finally calling us in for dinner – one last, final huge meal for the day.  Grandpop would usually end the day sitting on the screen porch enjoying the evening breeze and – more often than not – Grandmomma and I would go back to our books.  Their house was my summer camp.

On one of those summer afternoons, Grandpop came up to me and offered me a small, bound pamphlet – which I still have – containing this poem – and a note to me written on the inside cover.  He offered it up as pretty decent guide for any young man trying to figure out who he was going to be and how we was going to live.  While it didn’t mean to me then what it means to me now, I’ve kept this one with me in one form or another since that day and I’ve come back to it more times than I can remember.

It’s not one that’s ever helped me solve a specific problem or address a particular issue but it has always provided a framework for how to approach the day – any day – a set of suggestions that on more than one occasion have guided me with respect to attitude and perspective.  It’s helped me find confidence , balance, perspective, courage, persistence, humility and grace – or just a willingness to pick myself up and dust myself off – at times when I’ve needed it most.  As time has passed and I’ve developed a more realistic appreciation for my place in the world, it’s come to mean more to me and spoken more powerfully to me.  I keep it in my head, try to let it guide me – all too often falling short in my attempts to apply it – but usually not so short as I would have had it not been given to me in the first place.  I would recommend these words to anyone.

Two years ago – before my son and step-daughter headed off to college – I had my chance to do for them what Grandpop had done for me.  My wife and I had two copies printed with photos from our time with both of them and passed it on – my own words written on the inside cover.  I can only hope that it proves as useful to them as it has to me.