Can You Hear Me Now

The tragedy of life is often not in our failure, but rather in our complacency; not in our doing too much, but rather in our doing too little; not in our living above our ability, but rather in our living below our capacities.

Benjamin E. Mays

Most of us are familiar with the story of the frog and the pot of water. You place a frog into a pot of tepid water which is then very slowly brought to a boil. Despite the rising temperature, the frog will stay in the pot until the heat eventually kills it. Conversely, if you drop a frog into an already heated pot, the frog immediately jumps to safety.

Despite the controversy regarding the accuracy of such an experiment, I can vouch that it is true in my own life. There have been countless times when I continued to accept something as it slowly went from okay to nearly intolerable. Whether it was a personal character flaw that went unaddressed for far too long, or a job that ate away at me bit by bit, I have been far too accepting of gradual declines.

This became especially clear to me this morning as I took notice of a radiator in my second floor bathroom. Linda and I have owned this house for over 29 years and in that time I have slowly watched the paint on the radiator go from adequate to downright nasty. While I cannot turn back the hands of time, I would like to believe that if it looked this way when we bought the house, a trip to the hardware store for a can of paint would have happened right out of the gate. As it is, though, I watched the paint fade, discolor, and crack year after year without raising a finger — or in this case, a brush. The changes from day to day were never enough to force me to take action.

First one
then another
still another
little by little tiny pieces are shaved away
until a blue sky is engulfed by gray
and a beautiful child is lost to the world

The man takes a drink
the drink takes a drink
the drink takes the man

Bit by bit by bit

In Days of Auld Lang Frogs

In case you hadn’t noticed, we had one of those New Year’s Eve things last week. 2025 is officially a thing of the past and we get another 12 months to tackle everything we ignored the previous 12. Like Jacob Marley and his long chain, my list is lengthy.

I have never been a new year’s resolution kind of guy. Why wait for January to start working on something that needs changing today? However, I have nothing against using this time of year to evaluate where I am, where I am going, and what will it take to get there. The new year allows me to reflect on the mistakes of the past and the ruts I’ve fallen into. It’s also a good time to acknowledge what I’ve been getting right and how I can apply that knowledge to the less functional aspects of my life.

At the top of this year’s list of reflections are my frogs in the pot. It would not take a whole lot of effort to make a lengthy list of what I have allowed myself to accept. Purposely or not, there are plenty of less than desirable material items, behaviors, and habits that I choose to ignore. I know they are there, but I either pretend that they don’t matter, or worse, know they matter and still choose to do nothing about them.

I know this about me, though. If I willingly turn my attention to something, it gets taken care of. Case in point is my basement. After years of looking the other way as I stepped over and around the sizable clutter, I spent many hours over several days cleaning out decades of accumulated junk. This was all in preparation for the installation of drain tiles and a sump pump. Granted, it took Linda’s prodding and a contractor’s deadline for me to take action, but once I got going, I was unstoppable. Now, for the first time in practically forever, I can take people into the basement and not apologize for the mess. While it’s not exactly spotless (nor will it ever be — it’s an old, unfinished basement in a 120-year-old house), it’s no longer an embarrassment. I call that proof that I am capable of facing the previously un-faceable and get the job done.

We first make our habits, and then our habits make us. John Dryden

So, rather than a resolution to change any one thing in particular, I going to commit to opening my eyes to all the neglect in my life. There is plenty to see once I start looking. It could be as simple as that radiator in the bathroom — and the many other places around the house that could use sanding, scraping, and a coat of paint. It could also be any one of the many character flaws I’ve allowed to flourish these past 60-plus years. Did someone say “avoidance”? Nothing is too small nor too big to warrant a free pass.

Be careful with those mops and brushes
those buckets and brooms
they are dangerous tools to employ

You start in the kitchen and soon it’s the hall
down the hall, up the stairs
bedrooms, bathrooms, closet floors
out with the clutter
the dust and the grime
years of accumulated baggage
missteps and blunders
foolish mistakes gathered up and whisked away
leaving you face-to-face with the raw, the naked
the stained ceilings and cracked walls that frame your life

Without prodding I am prone to leave things as they are, so I am going to call this declaration my first prod. It’s not quite the prodding of a loving wife or the sump pump guy, but it’s a step in the right direction. Remember, it’s progress and not perfection.

A radiator today. A long list of character defects tomorrow. I am a frog who has no desire to end up as the protein in a hot and slimy soup.

Your turn. What are your frogs and how do you plan on dealing with them? Are you ready, willing, and able to lower the heat before your pot boils over?

Thank you for reading. Happy New Year!

Four Piper

For as long as I can remember
he carried the ballast of regret and disappointment
an old and tired boat
laden with the weight of neglect and self-doubt
the drunken rages of a similarly burdened father
borne like ingots of rusty iron

A pound for each time he lashed out in anger
a pound for each time he turned away from love
until the burden became too great to stay afloat
and he sank beneath the waves