You never count your money
when you’re sittin’ at the table,
there’ll be time enough for countin’
when the dealin’s done.
when you’re sittin’ at the table,
there’ll be time enough for countin’
when the dealin’s done.
— Kenny
Rogers, The Gambler (written by
Don Schlitz)
Life offers up plenty of surprises, and the conversation that
occurs between a gambler and a fellow traveller highlights the wisdom of an
old-timer who learned the wisdom of life, supposedly, from his poker games.
The gambler picks that the traveller is down on his luck. They travel aboard a train bound for nowhere,
which is often the train on which gamblers end up. The gambler’s there perchance. His conversation with the traveller is his
legacy, for a nip of whisky, a cigarette and a light. The deal done, things get quiet, and the mood
changes from frivolity to frankness.
The gambler knows what he knows about people who gamble by
simply looking at their eyes. Studies of
body language make it possible to predict with some accuracy where others are
at. Body language, expression, and
gestures are cues. If we’re sufficiently
interested in other people, motivated by actual love for them, God can give us
the ability to see them.
As for the chorus of the song, here is what I believe the
gambler is saying to us:
Know when to hold
‘em: retaining what we should keep, no matter the temptation to
sell. This is especially true about the
spiritual things we’re to retain. This
is a spiritual matter. Spiritual
acquisitions of God are precious and priceless.
Know when to fold
‘em: giving away that which we should not keep. Parts of our characters we need to let go of. The rough edges God, by cruel experience, is
burnishing off us.
Know when to walk
away: when we’re behind before we get too far
behind. It takes a mature person to quit
ventures trending to nowhere before things get dramatically worse.
Know when to run: when we’re ahead, we run, before we get behind. Not being greedy, we get to run from that
which could be a sweet temptation to stay when we shouldn’t.
When to Count Our Winnings
Only in clear sight of transition is it the right time to review
what happened; what we walked away with.
We don’t count our chickens before they’ve hatched, because some might
just be unfertilised eggs, suitable only for eating. We don’t count our winnings at the table,
because they’re not ours yet. Only when
we’ve run can we do such a thing. This
applies to all performance. Do the
performance mindfully, and when the performance is over, then conduct the
review.
***
The secret to survival is knowing what to chase from what to
leave alone. Sometimes we’re winners,
and sometimes we’re losers. Nobody holds
the aces on victory, just as nobody owns defeat.
It’s true that the gambler says, “the best thing you can hope
for is to die in your sleep.” To not have
to experience death consciously is about the best way to do death, given that
we all must experience such a morbid end.
And when the gambler, he rolled over, ready for that sleep, the song
tells us he “broke even,” which is a gambler’s way of understanding he died. In death we break even, for all we gained and
lost in life is then put in a box.
Our circumstances in life are the cards we’re dealt; the way we
play our hand speaks about our choices.
© 2016 Steve Wickham.
Postscript: whilst I
deplore gambling for its addictive qualities that produce no end of personal
and social problems, I couldn’t get past the incredible wisdom in this song, as
a metaphor for applying wisdom to life. Learn
the wisdom, but please don’t gamble!
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