I guess you know that I have an Order of Canada (2003). It has meant a lot to me, cheering me in my down times that I have not entirely wasted my life. I have never been required to do anything to justify my award, other than recommend the odd person for one, none, so far, successful. But last week I received a letter, addressed to government award winners, urging us to cheer people on during these parlous time.
(It didn’t say parlous. I looked it up to make sure it isn’t obsolete — archaic, but not obsolete:
parlous |adjective, archaic or humorous, full of danger or uncertainty; precarious: the parlous state of the economy | the General's position was parlous. adverb archaic greatly or excessively: she is parlous handsome. DERIVATIVES parlously adverb, parlousness noun ORIGIN late Middle English: contraction of perilous.)
Does that cheer you up?
I’ve been thinking, though, of my life so far (haven’t we all?), what has passed and what we don’t know will happen next (when?). And I have another few words of comfort and cheer, taken not from my past but from the 8th century or so in England, written, but known orally before that. This is from Deor’s Lament, the song of a warrior recalling his hard, bitter life, with the recurrent refrain:
þæs ofereode, þises swa maeg — that passed, so may this
I kept saying that to myself to help me over the hard times. We all have hard times, don’t we? Maybe it will help you, perhaps a useful shibboleth in time of need.
(shibboleth noun, a custom, principle, or belief distinguishing a particular class or group of people, especially a long-standing one regarded as outmoded or no longer important: liberal shibboleths about education. ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Hebrew šibbōleṯ ‘ear of corn’, used as a test of nationality by its difficult pronunciation (Judg. 12:6)
Sorry. I can’t help myself. My comfort has always been in words, other’s wisdom to supplement my own. (“These fragments I have shored against my ruins.” T.S.Eliot)
I do hope they help you.
þæs ofereode, þises swa mæg