When he felt joy, he would become quite light-hearted. He would give release to his irritation once a while, as it would be useful to him. He would make every effort to employ common sense, yet reason did not always guide his way. Above all though, he would always keep one rule in mind: ‘It’s worth not being selfish’. And he would be ready to give up his own leg to a hungry shark (although that really only happened in his dreams). A tender essay by Jan Stoberski about the acceptance of oneself.

I repeatedly had the pleasure of ascertaining the following: nobody is aware of the fact that at times my brain comes up with ideas so uninteresting and trivial that I prefer not to share them with anybody. As a result, I do not need to be ashamed of them. I also make every effort to forget about those failed spiritual creations as quickly as possible so that I don’t consider my head as being something that should end up in the dustbin.

Then at other times, I would chasten myself. I am not always able to think of my prior sad experiences as something amusing, I do not always laugh at the fact that this or that event could have worried me, or even led to near despair at the time. Then again, I still do not disregard various material assets to the point where I would finally start thinking not about what is worth possessing, what would be worth buying, but rather what I should get rid of or what I should give to whom, so that I don’t die as a ridiculous owner of many useless trinkets; as a lover of junk.

So I would be a really good human being mainly in my dreams. For example, one night I dreamt that I was offering my right leg to a hunger-stricken shark as a nutritious meal, with no regard for my own pain and fear. Yet I heaved a sigh of relief when the man-eater somehow shunned my gift and didn’t so much as touch my limb with its teeth. And when I awoke, I promised myself: I shall eat much less from now on! After all, I could lose my life at any moment, so why should I subject those who will carry the casket with my remains to exhaustion and shortness of breath? Should I not relieve them of their hardship? I need to think of that ahead of time!

On the other hand, the thought that those among my acquaintances who had been in need never hesitated to ask me to lend a few pennies, made me quite happy; I would have felt afflicted if one or the other of them had said to me: “I do not wish for you to be my benefactor. I shall not bestow such pleasure upon you!”

When I would be gentle and very accommodating towards my friends, I would see myself as a type of wise and tolerant old geezer; yet when I would become annoyed with them, I would get the impression of being youthful again. I did not always try to refrain from my bouts of irritation, as they would often be extremely beneficial for me. Because in the end, I would burst out in joyous laughter the moment I remembered what a wild animal, caveman or near madman I became in my moments of anger, and what foolish plans I would make to severely punish those who had angered me. But when I was cheerful, I would become completely light-hearted. I would not be terrified, but rather even amused by the fact that with each passing day, each passing minute, I was taking seemingly slow, yet in reality rapid, steps towards the graveyard trench that I would someday fill, with the help of gravediggers. I even attempted to find impertinent joy in the fact that I, too, will finally end up in the mysterious kingdom of the grim reaper. After all, it seems that I have long been extended an invitation to go there, and I will certainly take advantage of it.

At one point, I had even thought to myself (with a supposedly generous feeling of sadness): My health has considerably improved as of late, so it will regretfully still take some time until I appear in that world, and I so much enjoy visiting unknown places! Then I made the following resolution: Once I become a withered slumped old man after so many years, I will seldom show my face to people so as to not invoke any feelings of pity. I will leave the house only to go to the bakery or the chemist’s! At any rate, I already avoid wandering about in the streets to interrogatively observe other pedestrians and to have them observe me; there is no benefit from such eye-bulging; such attempts to hastily assess one another. It is not easy to read people’s eyes and faces and state what they’re worth. People have been curiously eyeing each other for ages, but they are usually unable to fully satisfy such curiosity.

It was on several occasions that I tried to follow reason, but I had no idea what to do at any given moment to not reproach myself later for not having done this or that differently, with greater benefit to myself or others; this was because my reason did not seem to have provided me with any clear hints, and I would then experience a type of peculiarly strange satisfaction from beating myself up for being such an intellectual klutz, thereby proving that I am capable of administering justice towards myself.

One day, I was racking my brain for a few minutes trying to decide whether I should go to Kufelek’s or not. And finally, to avoid blaming myself for postponing the decision as to what I should do, I wended my way to Kufelek’s, nearly died of boredom there, and then proceeded to scold myself. It was useless of me to show off with that quick decision-making to avoid disregarding myself as a human being with long trains of thought. I cowardly ran away from my own self, from my own opinion about myself!

I was generally quite tolerant of my acquaintances and doing so was usually beneficial to me. Since Lalnik believed, or was even certain of the fact, that he was gaining my respect with all his bragging and that I did not doubt the authenticity of his babbling, his mood was most splendid, he smiled with satisfaction, while I was quite amused by his conviction. So we both benefited from his pompous displays. Lalnik was convinced that he could be an interesting person when he talked about his office work, that it was really worth my time to listen to him. I would not explain to him that he was mistaken; I did not want to ruin his good mood.

He did not flare up at all when I asked him:

“Why are you so keen to rid yourself as quickly as possible of any illness that sometimes afflicts your body, yet you in a way wholly consent to certain spiritual ailments, to various faults, as if you were to deem them as not harmful to yourself or not unpleasant to others, or as if they were for you traits with which you could quite agreeably live with?”

His only reply was:

“I am not attempting to be somebody better than other people, than egoists, deadbeats or storytellers, whom there are millions of the world over and who will never disappear from it, ever. We can only dream of an Earth that will in a thousand years be solely inhabited by wise and good human beings. I will remain, as it seems, the same as I am today until I die.”

“But,” I eagerly responded, “if I were to remain the same as I had been up till now, may I repent for that someday. If I were to catch scabies from somebody, may I suffer from paralysis at the same time so I could not scratch myself.”

Then I burst out in laughter, pleased that I could repent to such a degree, that I am so merciless towards myself, if only for a minute.

Because I believed in the beneficial effects of illness, which urges those who suffer from it to reflect on their lives, on themselves, I didn’t feel too sorry for Lalnik when he complained to me one day: “I’ve been in bed for a week bored to death because I can’t get over this pneumonia!” Yet when he regained his health shortly thereafter, it turned out that the illness hadn’t changed him one bit. Therefore, the meditations that, as I gather, must have haunted him during his illness did not do much good. Even if he were to be taken to hospital once in a while and admitted to a different ward each time, he would still be the same disobliging penny-pincher and ingrate that he had been up till now.

Lalnik’s ugliest vice, in my mind, was his complete lack of appreciation for those who had demonstrated their kindness toward him several times in a number of ways. I myself was afraid that the thought will haunt me that I had not reciprocated, even in a minor degree, for all the good that some of my friends had given me. One evening, I tried hard to remember whether I had returned the favour to all those who had helped when I needed help or when I was in dire straits. Troubling me was the thought that one or the other benefactor had already died, that there was nothing more I could have done for them, or also that I didn’t know where Pylik or Tynfuła were living now and that I wouldn’t be quick to find out.

And at another point, I seriously pondered the following: since I had done many a favour for Mydlak, he shouldn’t be too offended at me if I were to demonstrate to him one day that I can be a good-for-nothing if I feel like it, that I don’t have to be so boringly obliging all the time, and that he should even forgive me if I were to insult him with a small yet rotten deed. On the same token, he who had long been generous could probably become a penny-pincher for a day or two!

Yet suddenly I came to my senses and was terrified by my considerations. There have been too many scoundrels and ne’er-do-wells of all kinds in this world, and I will never even for a minute join their numerous ranks! I will not give free rein to my worst instincts, even in spirit. I do not want to be a brute, even in my imagination, even for a split second! I will not try to spice up my rather boring life in a foolish way like that! Lalnik loses control over himself and bursts into anger many times a day for whatever reason; thus as I observed him at one moment, as he was breathing heavily due to his excessive irritation, I thought: I think it won’t be until I contract some terminal illness, until pain that is difficult to bear starts to plague me, that I will start throwing a fit for some trivial reason, only to bring on a heart attack as quickly as possible, which would liberate me from my suffering. But for the time being, I will not follow Lalnik’s example, if only because when I become irritated, I can’t help but blurt out the most stale of curses even to myself, while I hate using words that are so cliché!

I would always be angry with myself when some small annoyance would blemish my spiritual peace, when I would consider myself to be the victim of fate. I argued with myself that nobody is spared of worries, therefore neither am I. The only way I could escape them was if I had never come into this world; if only I had managed to wriggle myself out of that! I also find myself to be quite amusing, in that I express concern despite the fact that neither am I confined to a hospital bed, nor am I stuck in a jail cell! And what if it is mainly my choice whether I manage to maintain my cheerfulness or not? I would be a fool if I didn’t take advantage of such a possibility to choose and didn’t enjoy life if only a little; if I allowed melancholy to run rampant inside of me and let it frolic there as it pleases; if I were to wait patiently, meekly and helplessly until it finally takes leave one day!

I would sometimes blame myself that I have stopped indulging in the joys that had once made my life enjoyable on several occasions years ago. Because when I, as a child, would be alone at home and desired to lift my spirits up, I began to believe that all the objects I saw around me, so the table, wardrobe or chair, were my close friends, that they had feelings for me and that they would be very sad when they didn’t see me. I would sometimes apologize to the bed or curtains for having played outside, in the yard or on the street for too long and would promise them: Offences such as these will not be too frequent!

I would sometimes feel surprised with myself, thinking that if I enjoy pretending that I’m actually still a child, if I feel good when I can talk myself into thinking that I am but a few years old, why don’t I try more often to forget that I am already an old geezer?

But I didn’t forget the fact that as a young boy, I wrote this entry in my journal: “It’s worth not being selfish!” That has become quite clear to me now. This is because I had on several occasions helped Jurek out with things he had asked me for; he in turn spoke very favourably of me to Halina, who did not know me very well; that’s probably why Halina was very friendly with me, while I very much wanted to be friendly with Halina!

Translated from the Polish by Mark Ordon