I was described once as a “shot in the arm.” Not altogether painful, but stinging and surprising. Not altogether scary when it happens, but anxious as it approaches. Hurtful for a moment, leaving peace afterward. Not something I came up with, I assure you. But not something I deny either.
I am a nervous, compulsive, anxious control freak with a weakness for sharp and witty literature. Political to a point, and a lover of all things vanilla. A bit of a mystic, with a head for reason. Compassionate when it is convenient and self-centered. I like to laugh and sting and frighten and obey. There are a lot of things about me that are broken, and there are a lot of things about me healed by self-awareness. I’m just a big, brown-eyed puddle of a mess looking for mop in the Trinity. That is me. There is only one (she writes as the world sighs in relief) I cannot be all the people I love, though I have tried over the years of my youth. I can only take pieces of those people. I take the best pieces and let them fill in the gaps, and I just remembered why that was.
When I was in eighth grade Mary Poling made me and the rest of my classmates memorize a famous soliloquy from Hamlet, most defined by the line “to thine own self be true.” But there is more. There always was with Mary. The part of the speech that encompasses the “self be true” phrase goes:
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell; my blessing season this in thee.
I have been thinking about this quotation all day. I used to think that Willy was trying to say that we have to be ourselves, that he was giving advice. Now I see that it was not advice, but observation. Polonius, the father giving this speech, is telling his son Laertes what works–not what he think works, but what he has observed works.
“And it must follow as the night the day…” that has always been my favorite part, ever since I was 13 hearing it for the first time. The night follows the day no matter what. Even when you want the day to last forever, the night comes and it comes naturally and beautifully and brings with it a sunset–unique and hopeful.
People cannot help but be themselves, and therefore “canst be false to any man.” It occurs naturally and beautifully. Some people try to hide from themselves, shying away and bringing disillusionment to others, but eventually the day will be followed by dusk and falsities followed by truth.
As you enlightened readers know, what God has ordained us to be is ourselves. Psalm 139:13-14 says, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
Sounds like Polonius and the author of the Psalms both saw what worked, and it works no matter the era and no matter the language. It intertwines something like this: To thine inmost being be true. It follows as the night the day that all your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
Willy and God. God and Willy. God, Willy and me–just being us.
