Fanning the embers - the Peter O'Connor column

“What more can you say?” she was asking. “You have said it all before, and maybe you should move on?” 

And this was Sunday gone (sic), when I was rather basking in some positive and complimentary feedback on my column “Maturing: the next fifty years?”. I was down in Central, by family, when she, who is one of the sincere critics of my writing, put this to me. 

And not only that, she went on to list, and send the list to me, fifty positive and uplifting things that had happened in our Trini lives over the last fifty years—some truly valid, some serendipitous, and a few just “Trini” specials.

We all know that I consider we have not truly advanced as a society, far less a nation, over the past fifty years, and yes, I have come down on that rather heavily over the course of writing this column. 

And worse, for us, we had so much money at our disposal to provide water for all, a quality infrastructure, decent health care and education for all, and education could have created more employment, and made us appreciate our wonderful natural heritage which we actually despise, and we would all enjoy more personal security because modern, compassionate societies have less crime than do oppressive incompetent ones. But here I go again!

But of course she was right! What I wrote in the paragraph above is what I have been writing. And in June this year, when I was able to remind you that I have been imposing my opinion upon you all for ten years’ now, I referred to the introductory commentary I wrote here in 2002. 

Back then I wrote that I would try to make a difference; that I would see if I could begin to make some of us proud of whom we were and what we do, and of the blessings with which we are truly endowed. 

But of course, to travel that road, I would need to identify and concentrate on those many positive aspects of our being here, even, in our desire to be someone else, for we were ashamed of those truly meaningful attributes.

But that is not an easy road to travel in this strange and contradictory land of ours. To rise up, out of the Slough of Despond, and try, with a dimly lit lamp, to find a way—far less lead a way-- out of the mess we have created, is no easy task. 

Indeed, I wonder at my own arrogance that I am suggesting I do this, even try this. Easier, I guess, to simply return to my rage, and tell everyone how incompetent and corrupt and nasty (in almost every sense of that word!) we have become. 

And have most of you tell me that is just what you were thinking too, and “don’t stop writing” because we need to hear these things. But these things are now hollow complaints, which have all been said before. 

So, if we are to survive, far less move on in the next fifty years, fifty days or fifty minutes, we must stop accepting our piteous state of complaint, and find a way to move on. It is that, or we die as a society, and the symptoms lie before us.

So, here I go---getting up, changing course, and moving on---hopefully. What gems my dimly lit lamp might expose, I shall gather as I move. What glowing embers of decency and fairness and justice and compassion I might find, I will fan those embers, as best I can, into flames of enlightenment and maybe even, happiness. 

If I reach barriers I cannot move, or rivers I cannot cross, I will find a way around. It may not always be the perfect way, or even the best way, but if I can move around, and then continue, it will be better than cursing the barriers.

But where to start? 

From this point in the Slough there are so many “mirage” roads, leading away, with no defined destinations. So I will start at the very beginning: I will remind us of our Land, to which we all came, which we all need to nurture our spirits, to provide us with air to breath, water to drink and refresh ourselves, and food for us to eat, and upon which we live. Land to appreciate, to enjoy, and yes, to worship, as many wise people used to, before they lost their wisdom to progress.

Next week, providing no compelling blights intervene, I will try to tell you about this land of ours, which in spite of our disregard, and our petty conflicts, remains the very core of whom we are –all immigrants here!—and what we can become.