Finding A Corner To Hide In

A friend of mine has a saying he uses, “At the end of the day.”  Guess that is where I am tonight, at the end of my day and I am wondering what it is that I am doing wrong, which base I did not cover and pondering what all the other poor folks are doing tonight.

I did not read the paper today, nor did I find myself turning on the news.  Nothing in my email box, all my messages were shunted off and ignored.  So I guess it is time to face the music.  I am not making any more efforts to email people who seem to never find time to reply.   Not gonna pick up the telephone and reach out, to check and insure that the person on the other end of the line, is still in fact, alive.

Mostly, I am just gonna sit here and think about days like this.

Why is it that there are times in life, when a man’s soul cries out for some kind of recognition, that he indeed has worth.  What is it in our makeup from birth until the day we die, that we need approval of others, and we seek it with complete abandon.  What is it about the human spirit that requires attention in the form of companionship in order to survive?

And in the end … We are simply ignored.

Today I sit and I ponder this question, and as usual, I have no easy quick answer.  I don’t understand why it is that despite every good deed, every honest effort, each conscious move to improve my lot in life, I always seem to fall just a tad bit short of the mark.  Most generally, despite my honest and generous efforts, I do not succeed.  Much to my chagrin, at the end of the day, I find myself, as on most days, alone.

Not fully understanding why people are the way they are, I stumble upon them each day and try to make my mark, to fit in, to be a good member of the tribe.  I reach out to them in kindness, in conversation, to try and do my best to find some common ground, a link for which we might meet and agree.  But it never seems to happen.

Week after week, I just cannot seem to find the elbow room at the table.

Another thing that confuses me to no end, is why after each and every missed adventure, do I continue to try and do my best.  When I know most certainly that any and all efforts will be in vain.  Almost like the small lad on the end of the diving board, yelling out to his inattentive father, “Watch me.  Watch me!” searching in vain for a small ray of approval.  Ironically we start early in life seeking out some kind of validation, however small it might be.

No matter how I try, I can never seem to measure up.  What is it deep in the wellspring of my being, that keeps bringing me back to the source of my apparent discontent.  Over and over, I make the long trip down the path, only to find nothing to quench my thirst.  If baffles me, why I even bother?

You can walk on the water, you can walk on the moon, you can walk thru Memphis wearing blue suede shoes, when the walking is over and you find yourself at the end of the road.  It isn’t gonna matter what it is that you done, or who it is that you know.  The mailbox is empty, the telephone does not ring, and the doorbell is silent.  In a day of mass communication of every form imaginable, I find myself alone and wondering.

And I suppose I die just a little bit deep inside.