When it comes to making a summary assessment of life there are unquestionably more enthralling polar alternatives than birth and death (though honestly after 75 years of age the topic becomes tinged, rather like standing by the curb waiting for a cab). Inevitability is not guaranteed inspiring. For the moment – during this blissful start to the Victoria Day Weekend – I have formulated the summary of the beginning and the end as “blossom to seed” which, although not as abruptly capturing the unanticipated wonder of birth and the precipitous dread of death, does afford a more poetic and less dissipative rendering of life.  No doubt it speaks to the universality of the subject that I was moved to reflect upon this awesome subject when noticing from my lofty perch overlooking the fields that the glorious yellow dandelions have overnight transitioned to balls of white fluff (which in turn I expect to discover tomorrow have been completely blown away). Nonetheless the compelling feature of seed is its inherent prospect of growth. Or should I say something more elevated such as transcendental? Maybe the no less magical answer is grandchildren.

Don’t ask me why but suddenly I am recalling a story told by our choirmaster in prep school. He said, “There are two ways to get down a river: either you know where to go or where not to go.”  Upon reconsideration I wonder why he told us that in the first place? I think you’ll agree it’s an odd juncture by which to interrupt an afternoon chapel lecture. Crediting him with the foresight to enlighten us “dirty boys” (c.f., Theodore “Thube” Gibb, our geography master) about a profitable direction for our life-long pursuits, I concede the utility of his remark (though not without qualification). You will observe that the ordinance addresses passage not objective. It foremost presumes the intellectual capacity correctly to assess one direction or another. Assuming one were capable of predicting where to go – or speculating the easiest or most assured path for getting there – there is no mention of where one ends up. The mandate does however unequivocally amplify the importance of “trusting one’s instincts” about which I have long been an unalloyed proponent. The rhetoric by any standard enhances a conviction in oneself (apparently at whatever cost).

The subject of beginning and end does not apply only to the literal meaning but also to its metaphorical application. This enables one to align the figurative theme of blossom and seed to the domestic characterization of almost any other connection in life.  And significantly the matter of knowing where to go is guided by manageable manipulation of “knowledge” the depth of which is never fully explored. It remains certain however that wherever one goes, you know in your heart which is the right direction.

Now this is where I encounter an unforeseen obstruction.  It is all very well to feel overwhelmed by whatever knowledge or inspiration moves you, but the journey is not unshackled from other stimulants. By which I mean, not only there may be other additives but also there may be other competition. Oddly the competition – especially when characterized as “on second thought” – can be more divine than human. Speaking for myself, this instantly establishes a barrier. Appetite and gut reaction are my favs; lapsing into a more heavenly assessment of things does not always surpass contradiction. But the alternative, no matter how inaccessible, tends to contaminate the fluidity of the process. Just being inspired by one direction or another does not constitute anything more than a Hansel and Gretel wander in the woods. Questions remain.

Sadly the correct decision about where to go, or how to get there, in life is subject to the same threat of the witch (who, lest you’ve forgotten, was a cannibal and intended to eat the boy).  This is of no small consequence. It is on the one hand undesirable to remain incoherent or undecided about how to live; on the other, if one were more inclined towards the balance of probabilities than the elucidation of truth, a moderate temperance about enactment is not without its place.

I am notwithstanding these entangled consequences becoming unhinged; I am starting to favour my instincts. Part of my resolution derives from the belief that I can usefully hold my cards close enough to avoid exposition and detection.  This for me has the advantage of allowing me to react accordingly without threat of complete error one way or other. Nor do I suggest that ambivalence is intolerable (though I will admit that within the political arena I am less forgiving). As for the more terrestrial activity in life, I’m willing to commit to an element of prevarication.  Not everything is a matter of life and death.