Give credit
Ian On Sunday
By Ian McDonald
Stabroek News
April 15, 2007
Samuel Johnson, that great man of letters and heavyweight of good sense in eighteenth century England, commonly said the people whom we should most beware in the world are those who constantly insist on finding fault, those whose clouds are never lit by silver linings, those who everlastingly "refuse to be pleased."
I am often reminded of Sam Johnson's suspicion of such people and their moanings and gnashing of teeth when I read the newspapers or look at the news and commentaries and interviews and panel discussions on our TV channels. And I fear it is all much the same in other countries around the world. Blight and despondency stretch as far as the eye can see. The litanies of misery and human perfidy, on this side and that, are completely unrelieved by even the faintest evidence of life being nudged in the right direction. Intentions are always bad, efforts always flawed or corrupt, the half-filled glass is always draining towards the sourest dregs.
Take the example of staging the Cricket World Cup in Guyana. It was absolutely right to ask searching questions about this ambitious national project. And who can doubt that it was a desperate rush to the finishing line? And of course the follow-through to ensure that our World Cup legacy is positive and substantial must be vigilantly sustained.
But, granted all this, should we not be enthused by the overall success that was achieved against so many odds and obstacles and should we not praise to the full those who worked tirelessly to bring off this astonishing endeavour - building the stadium, getting the infrastructure done, cleaning the city and surroundings, securing the event, administering the logistics, welcoming the visitors?
Personally I shall never forget the rush of pride and excitement I experienced when I walked with my wife and son and friends into the stadium at Providence for the first time and joined the bustle and enthusiasm of the filled to capacity crowd. The friendliness of the volunteers and staff at every turn was a great help. The abject, spineless performance by the West Indies team on the field against Sri Lanka that day and the rain-clouds scudding overhead could not lessen or dampen for me the greatness of the occasion or the feeling of exhilarating self-worth.
In danger of losing ourselves in the endless lamentation and grim caterwaul of the reportage all around us, let us not completely lose hold of the successes we achieve as a nation and the sweet positives in our personal lives. The lives of nations are full of setbacks, wrong turnings and dismal and even tragic and terrible events. And the lives of men never lack for distress and frustration. There is more than enough state disaster and individual misery if you look around. That is true and should never go unconsidered or be Panglossed over as we strive to live well and do better in private and in public forums. But surely that is not the whole story. There is so much beauty in Guyana, so much has been achieved, so many services greatly improved, and there is no country in the world with greater promise. It is certain that dreams and great plans can be fulfilled here. And in our individual lives surely all is not as bad as beings from the moons of Saturn might be led to believe if they just picked up the signals streaming through space from this land seemingly so horror-struck.
Hate is publicised, love is not. But in the end there is more love than hate. I absolutely believe this. If it were not so life long ago would have become extinct. Who will deny that amidst the hells revealed in the headlines scores upon scores of thousands of individuals, families, friends and citizens at large daily enjoy the facts and fruits of love and that life is good because of that? The individual experience of love multiplied a thousand fold day by day describes the truth better than the wasteland we are instructed to believe surrounds us on every side.
Finally, do not refuse to be pleased by who you are. Do as Derek Walcott advises in his poem Love After Love:
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread, Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.