A Life Of Errors

In a young man’s life

There is much self-assurance.

 

In an old man’s life

There is much guilt.

 

A human makes countless errors

In his lifetime.

 

While making them

He does not question them.

 

When looking back upon them

He cannot fathom them.

 

Much of his life is spent

Making up for his errors

And relieving his guilt.

 

He often finds

That neither people nor circumstance

Are as willing to forgive

As he is to repent.

 

But neither the people of the world

Nor the circumstances of life

Are the judge of a man.

 

Chasing retribution

Creates problems.

 

Chasing goodness

Creates problems.

 

One is never as bad

Or as good

As he believes.

 

Both

Are but arbitrary judgments.

 

The closer that people are

The more egregious the error.

 

Strangers

Have few conflicts.

 

For where there is closeness

There is complexity.

 

The waters

Are murky.

The allegiance,

Questionable.

 

While the attempt to atone for one’s mistakes

Is noble.

The atonement rarely is as potent

As the error.

 

The errors lives more vivid in memory

Than all the good

A man may have done.

 

This may be a point of interest,

But there is little fruit

In its lament.

 

Does man get

What he gives?

 

Does he reap

Precisely what he sows?

 

Has the golden rule

Been subject

To unbiased scrutiny?

 

Who can say for certain.

And aside from the principle of fairness,

It does not matter much.

 

For there is greater benefit

In realizing the way things are

Rather than what man would like them to be.

 

Life does not read self-help books.

And it subscribes not to spiritual philosophies.

 

It is neither about forgiveness

Nor blame.

 

But rather,

One’s recognition

Of his pattern of error.

 

And the degree to which

They are acceptable to him.

 

It certainly may be

That no man is perfect.

 

But nowhere is it written

That one should not desire to be.

 

Namaste.