Self Regard, Others Regard

Self Regard, Others Regard

David C. Russelll

My name is Daphne, and given to me by my parents at birth. This occurred nearly sixty years ago. I share this with you, though modern convention lightly admonishes keep your true age to yourself.

I was reared and reside in a small Midwest town in the United States. Elsewhere, some assert there are nothing more deserving of trust than people who are born and bred in the Midwest, and hold ‘Midwest values.’ We may be seen as down to earth, live out the dictum, honesty being the best policy, save finances for a rainy day, work before play. Two phrases well-remembered from childhood include, If I told you once I told you … times.”

“Do something constructive.”

Once a thinking cap was impressed on my memory, I always admired men and women who had goals clearly stated. Many achieved their stated goals by simply sticking to the course, the plan, the dream. A person goes from custodian to eventually being one of the administrators for a small or large company; A second changes careers at different stages of life, but manages to amass a significant nest-egg on semi or final retirement. A woman and man enjoy several years together as husband and wife by not sweating the small stuff.

I remember tenth century (BCE) King David expressed his goal in writing the Psalms, poetry from The Holy Bible: desiring to dwell or live in God’s house forever.

I began to achieve my goal, Live a life of integrity, by deciding I wanted King David’s desire to be mine, too. I fell off the wagon at times, but managed to get back on and continue the journey.

In childhood, I would try to avoid discipline by blaming a sibling for something done by me. One occasion, my brother and I sat for over an hour in our family’s living room until I admitted my part in spilling fresh veggies in the garage when playing catch with another friend.

In school, I called a teacher an expletive on one occasion. She sent me to the Principal’s office where I wrote the expletive on a sheet of paper fifty times.

Another instance during my middle-school years, involved typing the same term paper in seventh and eighth grade Science. The subject concerned the history of the automobile. teaOur teacher, Mr. Burnes, may have recalled this, but said nothing, giving me a average grade for the two-page paper. Boasting of my accomplishment received quite the review outside school at home.

“You don’t get anywhere in life by taking the easy way out,” was the message received and given in a stern tone. “Don’t ever pull something like that again. Do as you are told and do it to the best of your ability,” my parents stated.

In adulthood, I thought getting drunk proved one was a party animal. The buzz was a different feeling. I would become a quiet observer of those around me, and begin to feel miserable. Though this did not cost me dearly, I probably had few less friends, and knew the pain of a hangover to be most detrimental on waking a few hours hence. This was my pushback against the dictum, Be in the world but not of the world.

On glance, my repeated term paper was means to take the easy way out to get something accomplished.

Telling a lie is pretty stupid if one expects that to hold up indefinitely. Most times, truth wins!

There were of course several other incidents that occurred just from the result of having a continuous beating heart and breathing in and out, in and out.

My memory was impressed by happenings that resulted from the urban riots of the late ‘60s. People, at no fault of their own, lost their businesses or were looted; neighborhood home values plummeted as fires ravaged dwellings and caused untold damage.

The most significant telling experiences throughout adulthood challenged my notions of integrity. I learned that life insurance eventually runs out if someone doesn’t occasionally revise their ongoing policy and payment of premium. In my latye forties, what was termed a mini-stroke was not severe or fatal. Recovery occurred took a few weeks aided by home services for Occupational Therapy and Physical Therapy. I had enough savings to meet the medical bills that resulted from this incident. I chose to no longer play the health insurance game; To date, this choice has been self-sustaining.

Integrity took a major beating within a few years of the mentioned stroke. I lost family, home, savings, almost my life, everything - when a decision made in less then two minutes would a few years later reap unwanted consequences. I had invested in a business start-up rather significantly. For several months it held its own or had slight jumps shall we say in profitability. Seldom, did it succumb to a showing of loss. I was winning this game too.

With saved dividends, I purchased a small home and made down-payment, and in time the fall, the boom resounded. The company was closed down due to discovered nefarious practices. My investment income dived to its fatal end. I could not continue making house payments. The home went into foreclosure. I became resigned to live out of my SUV and pick up odd jobs to simply survive.

Over time, I felt the internal affects stemming from personal loss, personal setback. People stared at me rather than displaying a smile. Word of my misfortune seemed to spread like a wild fire. The blame was on me for failing to be a human being and a human doing.

“She made a stupid decision.”

“She exercised irresponsibility.”

“She’s a homeless good-for-nothing.”

“She will never rebound and is consigned to this until death.”

I felt these were the unspoken behind the stares. Seldom, anyone asked, “May I help you?”

Integrity was tucked firmly inside my being. However, it had shrunk to nearly granular proportion like grains of sand. Having had insurance, a job, investments, consistent moral compass, all seemed to become hazy, nebulous, insignificant as the result of one failure not just a foible. Integrity cost me everything in the short run. Everything tangible by touch, by sight, by hearing, even by olfactory sensation.

To pass from this life with much or with little is experienced by all humanity in varying degree. Many may know of some famous and not-so-=famous people who have succumb to misfortune in the final stages of life. Author Edgar Allan Poe is thought to have lived out his days as a homeless man wandering throughout the city of Baltimore, MD. Actress Judy Garland had medical issues and debt that she could not eliminate. Singer and actor, Sammy Davis JR., (nicknamed the candy man per his hit song) indulged his desires, came down with throat cancer, and his marriage ended in a significant divorce.

The funny thing on reflection is that one’s character lives on in the memories of those one knew in life. Or, as generations come and go, these souls who experienced misfortune are more remembered for their extraordinary contributions to the world. Possibly the rest of us can hope for the same or similar at our end.

End