If Rudyard Kipling was a maniac

“If” by Rudyard Kipling is one of the great masculine trumpet calls of poetry of all time. It nails in short order all that a man wrestles with. I should clarify, all that a “living man” deals with, or will deal with in his lifetime. I come back to this poem sometimes every day, sometimes once a year, but regardless of the frequency it never fails to at the same time remind me of the core values of manhood while challenging me in my shortcomings. Something about it just hits you in the gut. Especially when read aloud with a smooth British accent. I have yet to meet a man who didn't very personally resonate with each line through the context of something in his life. I plan to do a full analysis of the poem soon, but for now I thought a re-telling might be a different way to absorb some of the lessons. Enjoy.

“If Rudyard Kipling was a maniac”

If you can lose your mind, along with everyone else while nothing of consequence occurs,

If  you can doubt yourself for no reason, and assume people are working against you too

If you can be impatient with yourself and your trajectory, or swim in the shit of your detractors, or return hate for hate

And yet, humble brag on social media and crank up the filters

If you can dream—and lay spellbound in the clouds

If you can think—and always have good intentions

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and in that order, attribute them to luck and your parents

If you can refuse to throw your hat in the ring about what matters, for fear of those who might counter or lie about you

Or be knocked down by life's circumstances, and lay wallowing in the mud, refusing the simple task of “Stand up”

If you can fear uncertainty, and risk very little, and assume that every outcome is final and permanent, while

giving up and branding yourself a failure;

If you can live to only serve your vain and banal desires, and give up on higher pursuits when faced with any

amount of resistance

If you can use your charm to take advantage, and let your hubris keep you elevated above others;

If you thirst for likes and argue with strangers on the internet, if you are a loyal follower of your political tribe;

If you can live for comfort and convenience, and waste your day watching motivational speeches on Youtube

Yours is Misery, and all that she consumes,

And--which is worse--you’ll be a shell, my son