Introspection

För precis 40 år sedan började jag fundera. Var det nu tillräckligt med 6 år i Norge? Norrmännen då?
Jättetrevliga, flaggor överallt, jultorsk med ärter, guld i OS, bussrally på fjällkanterna, visor bland vänner, energi till tusen på allt sätt och ungar som vuxit över gränserna och samlat mera OS-guld. Fara hem?
Javisst, med en massa bitar av plus och minus. Det har vi alla. Dem kan vi jämföra om vi önskar och vågar eller…

I moved along at pleasing pace,
my life was mine, a private race.
I did quite well, I was content,
to me this was what living meant
but then I heard behind my door:
“Come on! You could be so much more!
What are you doing with your share?
Come on! Get up and try and dare!”
I moved along, almost content
but not quite sure of where I went.

I eased along at proper speed,
with those to care for, love and feed.
I did quite well, I was content,
two girls were what my living meant!
But then I heard behind my door:
“Come on, you can make many more!
With likes of you, where would we be?
Come on! You must at least have three!”
I moved along – not quite content,
I was not sure what all this meant.

I moved along with modest haste,
domestic chores seemed but a waste.
I did quite well, I was content,
there was no reason for dissent.
And yet I heard behind my door
“Come on! You have to manage more!
What do you mean, you lazy bum?
Come on! This looks just like a slum!”
I moved along not quite content.
Was this really what living meant?

I lived my life at proper rate,
in war and peace, in love and hate.
I did all right, I seemed content,
I thought I knew what living meant
but every time I turned around
behind my door I heard that sound!
At last I had all I could take,
I had to look for my own sake.
Was there a devil, god or elf
but all I saw was my own self…

I move along at pleasing pace,
my life is mine, a private race.
I do all right, no voices scare –
or then, perhaps, I do not care!

Barbara Helsingius