Not waving but drowning......

This afternoon I popped into the office of a colleague to enquire how his week had gone and he turned to me, whilst surveying the mountain of paperwork on his desk and said simply, 'not waving but drowning.' His face held a wry smile and as it turned out all was well, but it did make me think.

How often do we confuse the cheeriness of a wave from those we think we know, friends, colleagues, lovers, with the quiet desperation of one who is slowly, if metaphorically, drowning?

Do we really 'see' the effects, good and bad, that we have on others?

How often do we appear in control when in reality we are drowning ?

Not Waving But Drowning

Stevie Smith (1950)

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much farther out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

Born Florence Margaret Smith in Kingston upon Hull, England, the second daughter of Ethel and Charles Smith, she was christened Florence Margaret, but always called Peggy by the family.

She acquired the name Stevie as a young woman when she was riding in the park with a friend who said that she reminded him of the jockey, Steve Donaghue.

She was educated at Palmers Green High School and North London Collegiate for Girls. She spent the remainder of her life with her aunt, and worked as private secretary to Sir Neville Pearson with Sir George Newnes at Newnes Publishing Company in London from 1923 to 1953. She died of a brain tumour on 7th March 1971.