But at my back I always hear…
…Time’s wingéd chariot hurrying near…
As I get older, it increasingly seems to me that the world divides itself into two kinds of people. There are those who look back and say, “I’ve had a good life and wouldn’t change a thing.” And there are those who are filled with regret for what might have been and sorrow over much of what actually was.
Maybe there are always those two kinds of people at all ages, not just as one gets older.
But I wonder.
I think that the two groups reflect a very real difference in life’s trajectory. Some of it is innate personality, but some of it is luck, bad or good, that can set the course and be somewhat self-perpetuating.
Not that one’s luck can’t be changed. But as the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, sometimes luck breeds more of the same sort of luck, both good and bad. Tracks get more deeply rutted; opportunities close down or get fewer. Reputations are built or destroyed. Sorrows and travails can be hard to overcome except for the most psychologically and physically resilient among us. Families and spouses either support or hinder or are indifferent. Friends come and lead to more friends or move away or die or look elsewhere for companionship. Circles of help expand or close down and are harder to rebuild. Chronic illness cuts one off. Marriages set a prevailing tone and bring a person down or lift that person up.
Yes, we make our fates to a certain extent. But I think that extent can be somewhat overestimated, except for extraordinary people. And those people often also have some sort of charismatic personality that draws people to them no matter what.
Lucky people often think they create their own luck. And perhaps they do. Or at least partially. Or perhaps they don’t. Having a loving famiy isn’t something a child creates, for example, but it affects people for the rest of their lives, however short or long they may live.
William Blake’s poem “The School Boy” is about a stifling educational experience. But it could just as easily be about a family, particularly that last verse, addressed to parents:
…How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring!O father and mother if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care’s dismay,-How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?
Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse” is a recent and much bitterer take on “stifling” family experiences:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
When that Larkin poem appeared a friend of mine observed that it might be an epitaph for Western culture. Or some part of it.
Another friend said not long ago: Time’s winged chariot is idling in my driveway.
Neo, you noticeably did not say which of the two you are. Care to?
For my part, I really don’t fall on either side. I have had a good life, for which I’m deeply grateful, but there are a number of things I’d change.
Neo…I have to ask…Are you ok?
This is one of the rare posts in the Neo-anthology that I read & think, “Man…that would depress a hyena.” Reads pretty dark to me & I’m just hoping you’re alright.
I would also offer a wider range of “kinds” of people.
I know some who find themselves simultaneously remarkably blessed AND look back over their lives with some sense of “I wish I could have ‘do-over’ there & there & yeah there.” Those are the folks who might use the language of “I have learned to be content with whatever I have,” or even, “The Lord is my Shepherd I have all that I need.” What you repeatedly call “luck” they would attribute to grace or mercy.
But really…you ok?
Jimmy Buffett wrote a surprsing number of reflective songs. Here’s one about an older man he knew, who had his ups and downs, including losing his wife and child in the London bombings:
________________________________
Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin’s
And drinks his green label each day
Writing his memoirs, losing his hearing
But he don’t care what most people say
Through 86 years of perpetual motion
If he likes you he’ll smile, then he’ll say
“Jimmy, some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic
But I had a good life all the way”
–Jimmy Buffett, “He Went to Paris”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTGnT_zsuZY
The choices we make at one time often open or close further choices in the future. It is very easy to end up, through one’s own choices, in a place where there are no further choices that are any good. An easy example is the vast majority of the homeless.
The media loves to trot out those people who once had, but no longer have, choices for their narratives about what’s fair and what’s unfair and what the government should do for them. Like the homeless, or people who took out too many student loans, or whatever it is being lobbied for this week. NY Times this week had a homeless social worker making $72K in the Seattle area, but left out of the story the millions in the Seattle area making quite a bit less who are not homeless. This woman had not long before lived in one of Seattle’s most expensive suburbs, and the article of course would not explain any of the choices that led her from the place she had been to the place she was now, instead just portrayed her as an unfortunate with no good choices.
We may not be entirely responsible for all or maybe even any of our eventual life outcomes, but we are certainly 100% responsible at every moment of making the best of the choices we have in the present.
A lot of people only think of the things they’d change in terms of (very narrow) “those things”. It’s most often things changing and the framework of their lives at that point remaining unchanged. Seems to me that if you remove a retaining pin or change the gear count, you’ll necessarily alter the gestalt that is you. And who says it will be for the better?
I could have decided to save my knees instead of wearing them down with rather excessive physical arts but then I’d forfeit dozens of great memories, most likely replacing them with run of the mill (read later forgotten) ones.
Not having an alcoholic step-father right out of Stand By Me would have been a lot more calm and sane but on a lifetime of reflection I’m certain it gave shape to my later views on life and those arts I just mentioned.
One thing I’ve noticed comparing when my family relates a horrible past and when other people do – not all that common of an occurrence – is we laugh during the telling. My brother and I talked about it and figure it’s because we came out the other side undiminished if not better (usually in not-then obvious ways).
Just thoughts. Don’t know what they mean.
From 2000 to 2006, I wrote my recollections of my life. At least the part from childhood to my retirement.
My parents were divorced when I was nine. My mother remarried two more times and ended her life living with her high school sweetheart. Her life was a drama from start to finish. She could have been bitter, disappointed, fallen into a wine bottle, or any number of negative things. Yet, she was always upbeat, looking for the rainbow, and ever the optimist.
Because she had to work so hard in her beauty shop, my two brothers and I were free range kids. Gone in the morning and home for dinner. Lots to do. Selling papers, doing yard work, working at the local dairy, and other jobs that kids were allowed to do in those days.
During school months it was athletics and school activities that kept us busy. Somehow none of us got into any serious trouble, but we might have because we were relatively unsupervised.
My male guidance came from coaches, Boy Scout Troop leaders, employers, and teachers. I owe a lot to
those men who took an interest in me. I can look back and see how their advice guided me into going to college. (I didn’t want to.) And how that college degree opened doors to opportunities I never dreamed I might have.
I’m thankful for that childhood and for a mother who was ever the optimist.
Now, the end is near. It’s too late to change anything. The book of my life has only few pages remaining. I feel blessed to have had such a life.
Gratitude … it’s not just for folks in recovery.
Ray Wylie Hubbard, a Texas singer/songwriter who caught David Letterman’s attention, tells the story of his life in a funny talking blues:
__________________________
When I was a young man
About 21 years old y’all
All I wanted was a stripper girlfriend
And a Gold Top Les Paul
Be careful of the things you wish for
You might get ’em
…
So we hit it off, me and this dancer
We hit it off like a metaphor
…
Well now me, I never busted through the gates
Into the big time as a rock and roll star
For 40 years I just carried around an old Gold Top guitar
…
And the days that I keep my gratitude
Higher than my expectations
I have really good days
It’s been a damn fine day.
–Ray Wylie Hubbard, “Mother Blues”
https://vimeo.com/82331615
__________________________
Love the line: “We hit it off like a metaphor.”
Sometimes s$!t just happens. I had a really good ride in my career and looked to going out comfortably next year until I got stuck on a project from #3!! earlier this year, and decided to pull the trigger on my retirement at the earliest opportunity.
Overall though no regrets (yet), and looking forward to making a difference in many places.
Isn’t there a third group? Aren’t there many people, like me, who fully recognize how fortunate we are to have come to this good place, and yet, at the same time, recognize how much there is we might have done differently, how much there is that we most certainly could have done better?
In my case, my life is overflowing with blessings that I never would have assumed would be mine as I enter my eighth decade. I have my health, at least for now, a husband who loves me, grown children who love us both and who seem to be negotiating adult life fairly well, despite the usual hiccups — better than we did, certainly. I have beloved grandchildren, surviving siblings, a fair measure of financial security in retirement and, for the future, creative work that I am free to do, that I want to do and that absorbs me, just to see what I can achieve — work that I can lose myself in. This is so much more than I dared to imagine I might have when I was younger and poorer and more tired and stressed and anxious.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t look back on my life and see, at every stage, in unforgiving clarity, so many things I might have done differently and could and should have done so much better. I certainly do not have the smug certainty that I did all of it right and would not change anything. I did not. I absolutely could have been a better daughter, a better wife, a better mother, a better granddaughter, a better friend, a better cousin, a better girlfriend, perhaps most of all a better version of myself. I wish I had. I wish it deeply. I wish, most of all, that I could have been kinder, so much kinder, at every possible juncture of my life. I tried to be kind, but I can see that I wasn’t kind enough. And yet I understand that butterfly-effect thing that says, if you change one small thing, it could cause inestimable, infinite change so far down the chain of time and fate that who knows, if you change some small seemingly unimportant thing, what significant consequence you might alter, what blessing you might lose?
I’m trying to live looking forward now, trying not to waste the energy I have left in useless regrets, trying to invest myself in the future: my health, my marriage, my own creative work, my grandkids. I keep my energy positive. I’m not depressed or sorry. Yet most of the affirmative work of my current life grows out of my understanding of the so many things I did so very wrong, over so many years — even though most of the time I was trying so hard to do things right.
I guess a major task of old age is forgiveness: not just forgiving those who could have done more for me, but of course, forgiving myself.
Anyway. I do have regrets. Of course I do. How could any thoughtful, self-aware person not have regrets? And yet at the same time I recognize how blessed I am to have washed up here. Isn’t that a third way?
@Mac
“For my part, I really don’t fall on either side. I have had a good life, for which I’m deeply grateful, but there are a number of things I’d change.”
I would think this is the most common and healthiest state.
Lucky people make their own luck by learning from their mistakes.
Unlucky people also make their own luck (or lack of).
I just turned 77. Not sure how much time I have left. Life has had Up’s and Down’s. Made a few bad decisions but don’t we all. Would I change anything? I don’t think so. If I could redo the bad decisions, might things been much worse. Most us go through life as it is handed to us. I am in a good place, accepting where I am. For the last 55 years I have been with my Wife, the Best Decision I ever made.
I wouldn’t phrase it as there being things I would change. First of all, I don’t know what it means to change the past. I couldn’t have made different decisions given what I knew and who I was at the time. Also, if I changed one thing, it would change everything else. Some of the good things that happened to me (like marrying the woman I am married to) were the consequence of some rather foolish actions (like not using birth control). Of course, we might have gotten married anyway, but I would certainly have a different daughter than the one I have.
But I certainly acknowledge that I could have been a better son, a better father, a better employee etc. than I was. In the end, though, it’s been a good run (I’m 65) and I’m looking forward to slowly (I hope very slowly) shuffling off the stage.
SF author Connie Willis wrote an interesting and moving story, ‘Chance’, about an unhappy woman with many regrets who moves back into the town where she went to school…and somehow encounters her former self. Excerpted in my post about her work:
https://chicagoboyz.net/archives/16168.html
Lucky people make their own luck by learning from their mistakes.
–Tom
I would say lucky people also make their luck by learning from adversity. Furthermore one can learn to see adversity as a gift to help one grow.
I attended Tony Robbins events for eight years. I’m hard-wired to look for the opportunity in everything.
It may sound stupid, but Tony says to always ask, when encountering adversity, “What’s great about this?”
It’s made a difference in my life.
Man proposes,
God disposes
So I ask myself if I had been selfish or ignorant. Would I have done differently/better if I’d thought about it? Not sure.
I am more or less in a group which got started in 1962.. Some of the guys are more interested than I am, and keep things going, along with the history since and the situation with the guys now doing it.
One of the originals observed that, at our age, when you see an email with a familiar name in the subject line, your breath comes short.
It was that way for a decade about half a century ago. Hard to say which would have been more expected/unexpected.
Is there a difference between “coping” and just trying to get along?
I read a report of a study a few years ago about “lucky” people. The conclusion of the study was that people who consider themselves to have benefitted from luck were the ones who perceived opportunity when it appeared before them. People who considered themselves unlucky were those who waited for what they wanted to appear fully realized in front of them: the perfect job, the perfect mate, the perfect home, etc. I would characterize them as the active group and the passive group.
My husband and I consider ourselves to be remarkably lucky in where our lives have taken us. I wouldn’t say either of us is particularly risk-taking but I can point to episodes in both of our lives where we took chances. They didn’t always turn out as we expected, but they ultimately led us somewhere wonderful.
Words of wisdom from N. Bonaparte:
“I would rather have a general who was lucky than one who was good.”
Like the “Butterfly thing,” I can also look back on things I might have done differently. But I wonder what else might have changed and less happily. I was able to change one mistake I made. I was divorced 35 years ago. Ten years ago we got back together. Some mistakes are reversible. But I still miss those 25 years.
Christopher B:
and decided to pull the trigger on my retirement at the earliest opportunity.
Same. Decided that another five years to climb one notch higher was a bad deal. I started life in a house that near froze in the winter. An extra pittance is a piffle compared to producing what I want instead of earning a few bucks.
The things I do require devoted chunks of time. I divested myself of any properties that would encumber that and work was one such. You can’t write a significant story or paint a detailed oil in one or two hours a night.
Having that open chunk of time is way more important that eating out a few more times a month, or having that new car, or living in an unnecessarily large domicile, etc.
Mike K–I have “known you” for years, but am just learning that you reunited with the mother of your children. Good for you both!
The joy that must have brought your kids!
Surgery is tough, tough job–especially when you were doing it.
It takes a toll. Your family paid a price.
I thank you for all you gave so many all those years.
I think it may have more to do with attitude than actual circumstances. I know people who have all kinds of money who spend their lives pursuing pleasure and self gratification and all they do is complain. Their default mode is unhappy. I know others who spend their time caring for others and being with others and their default mode is happy.
Lincoln said that most people are as happy as they want to be.
Only a fool has no regrets.
Another dimension of luck is avoiding terrible accidents and having good health.
Let us make the most of our lives in the full knowledge that life is essentially tragic.
Luck is just preparation meeting opportunity ,,, I read that somewhere .
I have had incredible luck and devastating misfortune. I like like luck better.
“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity”
Attributed to the Roman philosopher Seneca.
I agree with the premise that we make our own luck, that it is not some external force in the universe that visits us from time to time. What many people call bad luck – some sort of negative turn of events – often is just life circumstance that we want to blame on someone or something because we can’t tolerate that sometimes things just happen.
Regrets? I have a few but not many and I choose not to dwell on them after taking whatever lessons I can from them.
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”- Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
“Faith is believing that God exists, that He rewards those who seek Him and that we can hope in Him because His promises will always be true. Faith does not require perfection, but consistent belief that God is in control and we live in accordance to His will.” – Hebrews 11:1 a letter from St. Paul
I Gotta Be Me – by Walter Marks, Lyricist – Sung by Sammy Davis Jr.
My Way – by Paul Anka, Lyricist – Sung by Frank Sinatra
Is That All There Is? by Mike Stoller, Lyricist – Sung by Peggy Lee
Aren’t You Glad You’re You? by Johnny Burke, Lyricist – Sung by Bing Crosby, Doris Day
Pick Yourself Up – by Dorothy Fields, Lyricist – Sung by Fred Astaire, Nat King Cole
I put my money on Faith…everytime!
It’s weird. Eventually you can see how the choices or delays you made in life ended up shaping you in ways you didn’t comprehend at the time. But now looking back it’s much clearer. Why? What changed?
Richard:
It’s called growing up.
Looks like it’s time for a repost…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=5IsSpAOD6K8
(Metaphysics with a back beat….)
Do we need to do a wellness check on neo?
Blogless Sunday.
(Plus a lotta crap going down…
Maybe we should all get together and do a group Zoom Chi Gong session. Om can be the, um, facilitator….)
Barry Meislin:
Or the Monty Python “I’ve come for an argument” skit.
🙂
Barry Meislin:
The Monty Python “Argument” skit on YouTube.
https://youtu.be/ohDB5gbtaEQ
It’s possible to say “I would change everything if I only could” and “I’ve had a good life.” The greatest gift is life itself. The next greatest is not being so worn down with care that one can’t appreciate that. If you’ve got those gifts it does a lot to keep regrets and resentments down.
I wonder about people who say they have no regrets. Never? Not about anything? In a way it’s admirable, but it seems to indicate a lack of imagination. Maybe they’ve been too busy working and achieving things to give in to ruminations and recriminations, and it’s certainly good not to be devoured by regrets and unfulfilled longings, but a little bittersweet ambivalence isn’t fatal.
Fortunate people often say that the unfortunate got where they are because of bad choices. It may be more that they aren’t aware that choices are possible and don’t know what those choices are. In retrospect it’s possible to see that one did make decisions, but at the time, it may seem like one thing follows from another, without much possibility to change the flow of events.
Lucky people may be those who don’t carry around the baggage the unlucky do. They are freer to pick up on opportunities that present themselves, and if those opportunities don’t work out, they feel freer to drop them and take on others. That’s admirable in a way, but it will look like shallowness to those who are carrying a burden of fear, need, uncertainty, memory, or responsibility.
These days, I think sometimes about the Arthur Miller play “The Price.” It was televised long ago with George C. Scott. When the Great Depression hit, one brother, a brilliant chemist, drops out of college to become a policeman in order to support his parents. The other goes on to become a successful doctor. After their father’s death they meet after years of estrangement to sell off the furniture.
neo,
I suppose I know a fair amount about you and your personality. I’ve certainly read a great deal about your life and your opinions on events. However, even with all that reading I might not know you well at all, but I’ll go out on a limb and postulate that a trait we share (and many others here share) is an ability to view things rationally and without bias. Even with regards to personal things. Even with regards to our own lives and actions.
I read what you wrote in this post and think I understand what you are writing.
I have read a lot of autobiographies and read, listened to and watched a lot of interviews with “successful” people. One thing I notice with athletes; they all stress how much time and effort they put into training. In their perception they seem to believe their work ethic is their edge. And that makes sense. It’s hard to work hard and suffer, so convincing yourself it is necessary for success makes it easier to endure. However, I have competed in sports from a young-ish age and in my experience a willingness to work, suffer and push oneself is not a good predictor of who will succeed on game day. I’ve seen many diligent, hard working people who train smartly and consistently who don’t win. I think a lot of great athletes also have that trait, but I also think most every great athlete also has some flukes of freakish DNA.
I’m sure you saw this in ballet. You had as much drive, desire and commitment as anyone in your classes, but a few had some freakish DNA, and as their bodies developed they had traits two or three standard deviations from the mean that they could exploit to leap higher, flex better, “appear” more like a classical ballerina in ratio of torso to leg to arm to foot to hand.
I find a similar thing when “successful” business people and actors/actresses speak of their lives. From their perspective their work effort was key. But plenty of their peers had a similar or better work ethic and didn’t make it.
Yes, on a group level humans make their own luck (or do not make their own luck), but on an individual level that is not always true, nor is it of much use. We’ve all known people who “make” terrible “luck” for themselves; treat spouse, children, relations, friends and co-workers abysmally, live selfishly… Yet they are very successful in their endeavors. I mentioned Steve Jobs in a comment about a week ago. Talk about a guy who did everything wrong in his ’20s and ’30s. Yet his net worth by age 25 was in the 10s (hundreds?) of millions. Most American men who behaved like Steve Jobs in the ’60s and ’70s did not become millionaires. It’s not a formula for “making” luck.
And, on the other side of the coin, we know people truly as good as gold who never seem to catch a break.
I don’t want to bore you with personal details. This comment isn’t about me (for once 🙂 ), it’s about you. But there is one major component of my life where I have been bizarrely, extraordinarily “unlucky.” I’ve done just about everything one can do to “make” one’s luck in that area, and it has been a focus since I was very young, yet, not only have I not gotten a break, I’ve gotten a litany of unassociated, unrelated non-breaks. Again and again. Because it is an area where I have placed immense focus continuously, from a young age, I’ve reaped some rewards in this area, but nothing that correlates to my efforts.
So, I agree with you that sometimes we do not/cannot make our own luck; no matter how committed or sincere. But I also agree with your premise (and others here who have commented similarly) that we can affect our perspective of our lives’ trajectory. It is not good to be bitter about those things you have worked honestly and diligently for yet did not receive. It is good to be honest and realistic. Don’t blame or persecute yourself. All worthwhile pursuits have some elements we cannot control.
Abraxas,
I don’t know that play. It’s interesting; one of the subplots of Miller’s “Death of a Salesman” is Willie’s brother who leaves the family and country and becomes wealthy in Africa.
“Isn’t there a third group? Aren’t there many people, like me, who fully recognize how fortunate we are to have come to this good place, and yet, at the same time, recognize how much there is we might have done differently, how much there is that we most certainly could have done better?”
I may have made some mistakes along the way. I may have been happier if I had stayed in CS, and gotten a PhD, instead of switching to business, and gotten an MBA and JD. I had more talent in CS, but viewed a PhD as more onerous than it was. Didn’t figure it out until maybe a decade ago, when my daughter got a STEM PhD. And I lost my college GF because I wasn’t quite ready for marriage yet, and another guy was. But I ended up with a woman who suites me better. Well, mostly – today has been trying. And as a patent attorney, I got to work with a lot of exceedingly bright people.
I don’t know that play. It’s interesting; one of the subplots of Miller’s “Death of a Salesman” is Willie’s brother who leaves the family and country and becomes wealthy in Africa.
==
I think it was an uncle in the play, not a brother. IIRC, students of Arthur Miller have maintained that Death of a Salesman was inspired by Miller’s Depression-era family life, his dealings with his despised uncle in particular. Miller’s critique of the social order was perfectly poisonous; my high school English teacher fell for it; you realize later the plot and characterizations make for a stacked deck.
}}} As I get older, it increasingly seems to me that the world divides itself into two kinds of people.
Dolly Parton was in a relatively lame movie called Rhinestone with Sylvester Stallone.
It did have one awesome line in it…
There’s two kindsa people… Any you ain’t either one of ’em!!
.
I think there is evidence that, while humaniform, not everyone is “people”. 😀
Art Deco:
They are two different characters. Rufus T. Firefly is speaking of Willie Loman’s brother Ben, who became rich, and to whom he has imaginary talks in the play. You are speaking of Arthur Miller’s real-life uncle Manny, who was the prototype for Willie.
You are speaking of Arthur Miller’s real-life uncle Manny, who was the prototype for Willie.
==
He had a courtesy uncle named Emanuel Newman, who was married to his maternal-side aunt. Emanuel Newman was a traveling salesman and did have two sons (as well as two daughters).
==
The meme has it that Miller was inspired to write Death of a Salesman when he ran into Newman in a theatre in Boston when his play All My Sons was playing. All My Sons opened on Broadway in January of 1947 and played for 328 performances before closing in November, so somewhat puzzled there was a production in Boston shortly before Newman died in April of 1947.