A step of mystery (by Timm)

No doubt Timm was adventurer. Looking at the photo of Timm at age 2 riding the broom which would sweep him out of our Evanston Street house, you can see the eagerness in his blue eyes, excited to discover what was on the next block, or the next, or the next, until someone found him and brought him home.

When Timm crossed over into adulthood he was free to go where he willed, and Timm packed up and left home never truly to return. The vistas of his photos show what a wild and wonderful world Timm found out there.

It may be surprising to know how much doubt and fear continued to dog Timm til the end. It wasn’t so much a question of moving out and forward, so much as which step to make next. Even after his wandering years, settling more and more into his life in Salem, Timm was ever fretful of his career, wondering whether to go back to school to get his masters in social work, diving deeper into his photography or marketing some mix of social work and photography. The resumes and cover letters for jobs on Timm’s laptop are numerous.

In our last communication, Timm and I emailed back and forth about ideas for finding jobs online. He knew his job with Representative Hooley was coming to an end and wasn’t sure what to do next. (My job is closely allied with newspapers, not exactly the most secure industry these days – so I keep looking, too…)

The following poem found on Timm’s laptop, written in 2006, reflects Timm’s eagerness to make the next step while at the same time suffering indecision about what exactly it should be. Such hesitation and self-consciousness shows a shadow side to the adventurer, a boy eager for everything beyond the door yet afraid of turning the handle which would set him onto the next course.

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A STEP OF MYSTERY

Timm O’Cobhthaigh

2006

My next step is a mystery, since I seem to lack a plan
What should I do, and where should I go.
Are thoughts I haven’t even considered yet.
The day is young only hours since it dawned
And like a painter’s canvas waits for the touch of my brush.

Each new day holds so much promise
Possibilities abound for those who are willing and eager.
I really can do anything today go anywhere talk to whomever
I only have to choose and them I’m on my way

Lethargy and doubt are the enemies
Conspiring to keep me stuck
In my ears they whisper words so befuddling
The “but what ifs” and “you might get hurt” are typical to me.
And worst of all the evil words “what if you look bad.”
What foolish pride the last one touches
Evoking an ego attack.

Not wanting to show the least bit of weakness
While cowering like a little boy.

No, their words I’ll just ignore and laugh at their foolish folly.
My day will be ruled by freedom not fear and I will go wherever I may
But first I have to choose the most important thought
One I haven’t done yet
Which of all the steps I’ll take shall be my first one.